


Surrounded By Wolves

by Strayis



Series: Rise From the Ashes [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Complicated Relationships, Demons, Despair, Drama & Romance, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Friendship/Love, Han Jisung | Han-centric, Hope, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Sex, Lies, Love, M/M, Magic, Mates, Phoenixes, Rage, Telepathic Bond, Unicorns, Werewolves, Witches, Wizards, Wolf Pack, Wolves, lycanthrope, ot9 (Stray Kids)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-02-08 13:35:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21476869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strayis/pseuds/Strayis
Summary: A mythical creature bomb. That's what it felt like. Like a bomb filled to the brim with all of the creatures he was told were nothing more than myths had just dropped onto the earth beneath his feet and shattered his reality into a thousand irreplaceable pieces. He could never go back. He could never not know. Mythical creatures exist, and his best friend was one of them.Han Jisung always found an explanation for his friend's behaviour. Always some excuse for his clinginess, for his possessiveness, his jealousy, an excuse for the way he growled and glared at people who flirted with him, hell, he even found an excuse for Chan pinning him down one night and growling "mine,' into his ear before fucking him senseless. He always found some excuse to explain away his behaviour because he refused to acknowledge the truth.However, Jisung is forced to face the truth head on when Chan disappears and in order to find him, Jisung must dive into everything people have told him was mere fantasy.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Han Jisung | Han, Bang Chan/Kim Woojin, Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Felix, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Felix/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Seo Changbin, Kim Seungmin/Yang Jeongin | I.N, Lee Felix/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Series: Rise From the Ashes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548064
Comments: 45
Kudos: 110





	1. Phoenix's Curse

He stared up at the clock expectantly, his eyes portraying a silent plea as the second hand ticked towards the twelve with the minute hand dragging behind it. The blond pushed a trembling hand through his hair while his eyes remained glued to the ever moving hands of the clock. A deep voice rumbled suddenly from behind him, causing him to jump from his seat in surprise. He whirled around, his wide brown eyes meeting kind brown eyes.

"You know that won't make time go any faster, right?" A deep chuckle answered his bewildered expression as he stared at the white-blond stranger. "No need to look so surprised. Surely you've heard of the saying, a watched pot never boils?"

He blinked and took an uncertain step back from the stranger, his eyes falling into the mysterious deep brown orbs across from him. Despite his lack of a response, the stranger spoke again, his deep voice lilting playfully. "Do you really not remember me, Jisung?" The lithe boy paused, pouting contemplatively. "Although, I guess it has been a few years since you last saw me, and my hair is quite different to what it used to be," Jisung inhaled slowly, the air whistling over his teeth quietly.

"Felix?" The boy broke into a grin, his white teeth gleaming with the warm sunlight streaming in through the curtainless windows.

"It's been a while, Sungie. I've missed you," Jisung leapt at the boy, slipping his arms around Felix's torso and holding him tightly, his body shakingly and heaving as sobs wracked his bones mercilessly.

"Lixie! I don't know what to do," he sobbed, the words choking out of his throat. The snow haired boy embraced his friend as tightly as he could without hurting him as words continued to cascade past the sandy blond's quivering lips. "Chan hyung hasn't come home. I think it's all my fault. But he isn't responding to me at all and, and, a-and, and-" Jisung began to gasp as he struggled to breath, his anxiety pressing a tight hand against his throat, crushing his airways.

"Hey, hey, Sungie. Look at me," he lifted the panicking boy's head by slipping a finger under his chin. "Breathe," he orderes calmly, his eyes almost glowing golden as they reflected in the afternoon light.

It took a few mintues of following Felix's exaggerated calm breathing examples before Jisung felt the pressure disappear from his throat. He hugged Felix tighter as a fresh wave of tears threatened to crash against his cheeks and wash away his previous tears in a massive, unstoppable tidal wave, but before even a single drop could escape, Felix pressed his lips gently under each eye.

"It's okay, Jisung. Let's not worry about that for now. Let's go lie down for a while, hmm? What do you think about that?" The white-blond pulled away from Jisung slightly, only enough to look into the slightly older boy's eyes searchingly. Jisung nodded numbly, unable to speak as words refused to make their way past his tightly closed lips. "When was that last time you slept?"

Jisung's gaze flickered away from Felix for the first time since he had arrived. The dark brown eyed boy tensed. "Sungie?" His tone held a higher, fearful pitch to it.

"I don't remember," Jisung admitted as he met his friend's concerned gaze. "I don't remember anything."   
  
  


_As the clock ticked over, _   
_The scene faded._   
_A never ending loop, _   
_The curse of the phoenix. _

_ **S** _ _econds tick by, _  
_ ** A** _ _s the scene resets,_  
_ ** V** _ _ersions of different scenarios,_  
_ ** E** _ _rased and repeated,_  
_ ** M** _ _urdering Jisung's soul,_  
_ ** E** _ _ternally repeating, Phoenix's Curse._

_There is no escape,_   
_A cycle never ceasing,_   
_To heal is to die._


	2. Prologue

Woojin stared at the leather bound journal solemnly, his eyes a dull brown, shimmering with unshed tears. The tips of his fingers barely touched the leather as he delicately traced the intricate patterns decorating the cover. The journal had belonged to his mother.

The brunette's throat constricted as grey tinged memories circulated through his mind. They floated slowly, hanging lazly in the forefront of his consciousness. Days spent sitting alone on his front porch waiting for his parents to return. Months spent searching for a mother and and father without any leads. Years spent sitting alone, waiting for his parents to waltz through the door and tell him all about their mission.

It had been five long years without his parents. During those years, Woojin had uncovered all of the secrets his parents had kept from him. He was a hunter. Human but gifted with a special instinctual knowledge on how to hunt and kill creatures of myth and legend.

He glared at the journal he had yet to open. He had found out everything by himself. He had killed his first vampire, wolf, lower demon, and dryad by himself. He had fought off a coven beside rogue hunters whose mission had gone wrong. He had done so many things without his parents. So many things which thry should have taught him- done with him.

He threw the journal against the wall as a passionate fury trembled through his veins. Angry tears wobbled between his eye and eyelid before tumbling down his cheeks. Five years. _Five years. _For five years, Woojin had been alone. Abandoned by his parents who had likely been killed in their last mission. It enraged him that his parents would do such dangerous work while keeping him in the dark. Especially considering there was never the guarantee that they would return.

But, Woojin wasn't just angry. He was distraught. If only he had Awoken earlier, he could have been a hunter alongside them and he could have ensured that they returned home. He could have ensured they were never separated.

Woojin crawled pathetically off of the bed, tumbling ungracefully onto the floor into a crumpled heap. His sobs ebbed away as he stretched a trembling hand towards the discarded journal. His fingers grazed the light brown cover as he choked on another heaving breath. He stretched further until his fingers were able to grasp the journal and dragged it towards his chest. He remained in this position, unmoving, for several minutes.

Once his breathing had returned to normal and tears no longer raced down his face, Woojin picked himself up from the floor and gingerly sat on the bed, his grip on the book loose. He stared at the object in his hands blankly for a moment before untying the thin cord which kept the journal closed. With the two strands of leather cord untied, Woojin opened the journal to the first page. He inhaled shallowly as his mother's messy scrawled handwriting decorated the page with basic information every hunter learned upon their Awakening.

\---------

_Mythical creatures roam the world in as much abundance as people, often times assimilating into the human world seemlessly._

_The only humans able to distinguish these creatures from humans being the hunters. Born from a long lineage of hunters who specialised in killing mythical creatures. The only difference between hunters and humans being their vast, instinctual knowledge and recognition of these creatures as gifted to several hunter families by a spiteful warlock. The warlock had been betrayed by a pack and became so consumed by rage and vengeance that he had recklessly gifted several lineages with the knowledge on how to destroy all creatures that did not belong in the human world._

_Those creatures included the common beings included in myths and legends: _

** _¤ _ ** _Dryads/Nymphs - elemental creatures whose source of power is their environment. Poison or remove source of power to kill or inject _ _bleach into the creature's blood stream via bleach laced knife or bullets. _   
_ MILD _ _ DANGER THREAT _

**¤ ** _Witches/Warlocks/Wizards/Sorcerers - Humans born with magick. Kill by any method that kills a human. _

_ MILD DANGER THREAT _

_ **¤ ** _ _Hybrids - a mixed breed between two or more species. Often outcasts among all species and desperately wish to be accepted (can make a loyal companion if you show them compassion and they make a blood oath or are indebted to you - father says that as hunters we should not mix with these filthy creatures. They are hated by their own kind for a reason. Mother and Uncle say that a little compassion and empathy goes a long way and that we should not cast aside our humanity otherwise we are no different than the demon-fae hybrids who torture for fun.) Some hybrids gain the combined abilities of their parents, while others can only access primarily one side or none at all. The ones without powers are generally abandoned by their parents while still babes or used in sacrifices as they are seen as deformed. _   
_ MILD/MEDIUM DANGER THREAT _

_ **¤** _ _ Vampires - undead creatures who thirst for human blood. (Can feast on each other to gain strength. If a vamp kills another of it's kind by draining, then it will absorb the victim vamp's power and strength). Kill by stake through the heart or decapitation with white oak laced weapon or by fire. _   
_ MEDIUM DANGER THREAT _

_**¤**_ _Wolves - half human, half wolf. Can take the form of a werewolf (known pureblood pack: Jeon), lycan or wolf (known pureblood packs: Bang & Seo) <the three variants (species?). Kill by wolfsbane laced weapon. _  
_MEDIUM DANGER THREAT_

** _¤ _ ** _Lower Demons - creatures from the underworld with less power than higher demons. Gain sustenance from blood (doesn't matter from what. Can be human, vampire, wolf, or cattle blood etc.). Are strengthened by fire. DO NOT USE FIRE. Kill by decapitation. _   
_ MEDIUM DANGER THREAT _

** _¤_ ** _ Higher Demons - Powerful demons who hail from untainted lineages. Three known families: _   
_\- Lee_   
_\- Kim_   
_\- Park_   
_H_ _igher demons are loyal to the end and keep their word. Higher demons have powers/magick similar to vampires or wizards. DO NOT ATTEMPT HUNT!_   
_ **H** _ _ **IGH DANGER THREAT** _

** _¤ _ ** _Faeries (Fae) - powerful elemental creatures who are not solely reliant on a natural source, just draw power from it (Most powerful known family: Hwang). Are seductive and alluring. Have the abilities similar to a siren - able to lure in even higher demons to their beds. Most fertile of all creatures and can impregnate even vampires who are generally barren, and demons who cannot breed outside of their species. Have the ability to steal mates before and after the mating bond is in place. Can manipulate the elements within a particular radius of themself - determined by their strength. DO NOT ATTEMPT HUNT!_   
** _HIGH DANGER THREAT_ **

** _¤ _ ** _Demon-Fae Hybrids - the offspring of lower or high demons and fae. Extremely dangerous. Will often follow the commands of a designated leader. Will sacrifice their lives for their leader. However, at a certain point, theories suggest they may abandon the leader in favour for their own survival - an instinct derived from their fae side. Can use both elemental and demonic powers (e.g manipulate air to hold you in place while summoning fire to burn you). _ _DO NOT ATTEMPT HUNT! _   
_ ** EXTREME DANGER THREAT ** _

** _Any creature separated from its mate is volatile and will stop at nothing to get its mate back and enact vengeance upon the one who killed its mate. A creature with a mating bond or mate acknowledgement with a dead or missing mate is an EXTREME DANGER THREAT! _ **

\----------

Woojin sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging as he eased the tension from them. He closed his mother's journal while he allowed his eyelids to droop. Sleep tugged at his mind viciously. He had only read a single page of his mother's journal, and yet he felt overwhelmingly exhausted. He allowed his consciousness to slip away while he chased his last thoughts into the abyss of unconsciousness.

  
Tomorrow, his hunt for Bang Chan would enter its final stage.


	3. Chapter One

_When you feel it's hopeless, When you think that you lost_...

  
Jisung snuggled further into the warm, comforting embrace of his bed with a content sigh, his eyelashes grazing his cheeks, fluttering gently as he blinked his eyes open slowly. A small smile graced his lips as thoughts about Minho flooded his mind. The image of the beautiful boy with black hair, lightly sunkissed skin, and a dark intense gaze was imprinted into his mind's eye like a tattoo, something he could never forget about or get rid of. And yet, it made him smile. The thought of the boy he had chanced to meet, was like a shot of euphoria and made him feel giddy. Especially considering the boy had chosen to give _him _attention. Out of everyone at that party, he had chosen Jisung. Little butterflies of happiness fluttered joyously in his stomach.

Jisung rolled over, fully expecting to see the boy asleep beside him, but he was met with an empty, cold space. The happiness evaporated quicker than water in a desert. He stared blankly at the place where Minho should be. A strange sadness tugged at his chest. Minho had left him at somepoint during the night.

Jisung didn't know how he knew that Minho was definitely no longer in the house, but as he sat up, a bright neon pink sticky note caught his attention, confirming that the boy had left. The note was stuck to the back of the door, like a small brightly coloured bandaid haphazardly placed over a large wound in a vain attempt to cover it. Jisung swung his legs over the edge of his bed, throwing his covers off at the same time, before standing. He allowed himself to stretch, his arms reaching over his head as if he were trying to touch the ceiling. With a heavy sigh, Jisung stepped towards the door. His hand reached for the sticky note, his fingers grazing the door lightly as they curled around the edge of the paper and pulled it off of the white door.

His eyes lingered over the scratched scrawl that somehow managed to be rough and delicate at the same time. It suited Minho. A rough and scratchy but soft and delicate style of writing seemed to be a perfect match for the dark haired boy.

_Sorry Jisung._   
_I have a shift at work pretty early this morning. A friend called in sick and asked me to take over. I promise I'm not usually like this. _   
_And I'm sorry that I'm leaving a note, but I didn't want to wake you. You're cute when you sleep _   
_\- Minho_

A happy smile tugged the corners of his lips upwards. Minho said he was cute. Jisung moved towards his bed swiftly and pressed the sticky note to the frame of his bed. With a smile still lingering on his face, he left his room. 

Jisung walked around quietly, hoping not to disturb his housemate. Chan hadn't been home when Jisung and Minho got back, but Jisung was sure that his Australian friend would be in bed now. He slipped into the kitchen as silently as possible and began to make himself and Chan some breakfast after glancing at the time. 

Despite Chan continuously being awake until all hours in the morning, the blond boy was always up by 7am for some weird reason. Jisung had tried to convince Chan to sleep in, but he had always shaken his head and simply said he couldn't. It didn't make sense to Jisung, but he was used to it now and somewhat selfishly appreciated it. He loved always having Chan around from the moment he woke up. Chan would usually be the one making breakfast for the both of them as Jisung was generally the opposite of an early riser, however, it seemed it was Jisung's turn to return the favour. 

He grinned as he thought about how pleasantly surprised Chan would be to wake up to breakfast already done. Jisung continued to put together a meal, opting for pancakes as they were his and Chan's favourite. He hummed softly to himself, lost in thought as he stared at the batter in the pan, watching for the telltale signs that he could flip the pancake. 

His thoughts wandered back to the charming, dark haired boy who had approached him confidently at the party last night. The second their eyes met, Jisung felt like he had found the part of himself he didn't even know he was missing. He wasn't sure why he felt that way or if the older boy felt the same way, but if what they had done last night plus the cute note, were anything to go by, Minho definitely at least found Jisung attractive and interesting. Jisung just hoped he wouldn't end up being just a one night stand. 

He jumped, startled, when his phone pinged with a notification. He quickly flipped the now burning pancakes before rushing over to his phone to see who had messaged him. 

**Minho 💖💗**

_6:46_

Hey Jisung  
It's Minho  
I added my number to your phone before I left this morning

It looks like I will finish at work early enough for lunch if you want to come get lunch with me? 

_Seen at 6:47_

Jisung felt his cheeks warm with a light blush when he saw Minho's contact name and request to have lunch with him. If Minho had added two emoji hearts after his name, it left Jisung wondering what he saved his contact as on his phone. With eager fingers and a happy smile, he typed out his response. He told the other that he would be able to have lunch and asked where the other wanted to go. 

He put his phone down and returned his attention to the pancakes. He finished cooking the batter without a response from Minho but figured that the boy had gone back to working. Stepping back to admire his work, Jisung dusted off his hands dramatically before setting the table and plating the food so that Chan could just start eating the second he sat down. 

Jisung sat down in his spot enthusiastically. It was already ten minutes past seven o'clock, so Chan should be joining him at the table soon. He quickly grew distracted again when his phone dinged and several messages from Minho came through. Twenty minutes later, Jisung and Minho had organised a time and place for lunch. 

He sighed happily through his nose while placing his phone down on the table gently. He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall opposite him and his brows furrowed. It was half past seven. Chan was always, always, out of bed before this time. 

Concerned that Chan was sick, Jisung stood hastily and made his way to his best friend's room. He knocked on the closed door, his knuckles tingling from the sensation of bone meeting wood. Recieving no response, Jisung called out before opening the door, "Chan hyung? I'm coming in!" 

A small, confused gasp left his mouth when he noticed the made bed and empty room. Had Chan not returned home at all? Rushing out of the room, Jisung ran towards the dining table where his phone sat innocently beside his plate. 

He quickly picked it up and opened up the messages between him and Chan, scrolling with shaking fingers. Chan rarely stayed out all night, and if he did happen to, he would always let Jisung know in advance. Had he missed Chan's message telling him he wouldn't be home? 

Jisung continued to scroll until he reached the beginning of their messages from the morning before. He slowly went through their conversation, checking for a message he may have missed or forgotten about. His fingers ached to press the small blue phone symbol next to Chan's name but Jisung's mind won the battle and he decided against it. He must make sure he didn't bother Chan unnecessarily just because he missed a messge. 

However, when he reached the end of their conversation with no indication that Chan intended to stay out all night, Jisung was swallowed by his anxiety. Where was chan? 

The aching in his fingers seemed almost unbearable as they hovered uncertainly over the call button, the dull ache settling into his bones like a bird in a nest, comfortable and having no intention of leaving. A sharp anxious inhale accompanied his fingers as the dove towards the blue phone symbol and pressed on it. The screen immediately changed and his phone began to dial his best friend's number. 

"Come on, Chan, pick up," he muttered as the ringing continued once again. He had already attempted seven times to get a hold of the boy and it was already midday. 

With a frustrated sigh, Jisung plopped into his chair. The food he had made for breakfast remained on the table, untouched as he had been too focused on staring at his phone for a message from Chan to even eat or put the food away. 

He stared at the neatly arranged display blankly. His mind wandered to his interactions with Chan over the past month. He frowned slightly, his brows furrowing as a distressing thought popped into his head. What if Chan didn't want to see him anymore? What if he was avoiding Jisung? 

Jisung's head fell on top of of his arms which were splayed on the table. Had he been to clingy recently? Had he scared Chan away? He whimpered pathetically at the questions. He had not meant to be so clingy, he had just wanted Chan's attention on him all day, every day. He didn't want his older friend to forget about him as he met new, better people. Jisung was terrified that Chan would abandon him once he realised how much better everyone else was in comparison to him. 

His phone vibrated underneath his hand and his head shot up, excitement flaring dangerously in his chest, the happy emotion dangling by a thread above his heart, ready to fall onto the organ and crush it, if it was breathed into existence for no reason. 

The thread snapped the second Jisungs eyes landed on the name of the messenger. His heart collapsed under the weight of the unwelcome excitement. Minho's name and confused message asking Jisung where he was glared at him accusingly from the bright phone screen. However, neither of these things made it into Jisung's mind, the characters were blurry and unfocused as his attention was snagged by the two heart emojis shining next to Minho's name. The strange tug returned in his stomach and he felt the impulse to get up and leave, to rush to Minho, to cry in his arms and never leave him. It repulsed him. He had only known Minho for less than 24 hours and yet he felt as if never seeing the dark haired boy again would be synonymous with ripping out one of his lungs and trying to survive with only his heart and a single lung. Difficult, and near impossible without a transplant. 

Hot tears welled up in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks before he could stop them. He slid the phone aggressively across the table, the force of his push sending the device flying onto the floor with a loud clack. 

Jisung sobbed into his hands as he struggled to reel his anxiety in. The anxious thoughts and feeling having attacked him without forewarning the second he saw that it was not Chan who had messaged him. He knew that it was logical that Chan could have simple just forgotten to message him, but something in his gut was telling him that, that wasn't it. But he couldn't work out what it could be and it was stressing him out. 

He focused on trying to slow his breathing instead of the panicked thoughts whirling through his mind. It was difficult as he kept finding himself distracted by each and every one anxious thoughts. 

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as a particularly disturbing thought popped into his mind. What if Chan had gotten hurt and was unable to message Jisung? His heart fought violently against his ribcage like a scared animal backed into a corner. 

Exaggerated breaths pushed and pulled his lips as he once again tried to regain a sense of calm. He remained unsuccessful in his endevour for what felt like hours but was merely a minute. Exhausted by the effort he had exerted, Jisung rested his head on his arms and closed his eyes. Maybe if he woke up, he would find out it was all just a bad dream. But would he ever dream of meeting someone like Minho? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey.... sorry this update is so late! I sincerely apologise for my lack of relaibility when it comes to updating on a schedule :( 
> 
> I also really hate this chapter but I needed to write this so it could lead into the other chapters *sighs in frustration*. I am sorry that it is 2100 words of boring. I promise that pnce we get to chapter three, it will start to get more interesting :)
> 
> Anyone want to talk about Levanter?


	4. Chapter Two

_I will take your hand and we'll rise up from the dust._

The sensation of his blond hair moving against his eyelids was irritating. He huffed in frustration as his mind all too quickly crawled out of the fog of sleep. Tiredly, he moved a hand to push back his hair before blinking his eyes open. It took a few seconds for his eyes to focus, however, when they did, he found himself staring at the empty chair opposite him where a plate of pancakes remained. Untouched. 

If the crushing wave of distress wasn't enough to steal the air from his lungs, the violent riptide of desperation and fear certainly was. Jisung lifted his head slowly, gulping dryly as the realisation that it hadn't been a dream, that Chan really hadn't returned home, set in with an unprecedented clarity. Jisung glanced up at the clock and became panicked when he noticed that the time read as 5:17. 

His chair toppled over as he stood swiftly and rushed around the table to find his phone. Shaky fingers reached out towards the neglected device. Jisung winced at the sight of his phone. The screen was cracked from top to bottom and when he pressed the power button, the screen only showed a glitched black, blue and grey display. An arrow of anger towards himself wedged itself into his chest as a confusing mixture of frustration and sadness embedded themselves into his lungs until every breath felt like he was inhaling ice and exhaling fire. He placed the broken device on the table gently, his fingertips brushing the polished wood warily. 

Jisung walked dejectedly towards his bedroom. Fishing out his laptop from under his bed, he turned on the heavy graphic designer laptop. A chilling numbness crawled across his bones when his eyes landed on the date and time. 

It was the early morning of the next day. Jisung squeezed his eyes closed as a sob escaped past his wobbling lips. Fat tear drops slid sneakily out from underneath his eyelids, racing merrily down his face in an endless stream. Not only had he broken his phone, he had also slept away precious hours he could have spent looking for Chan. He knew that everyone will twll him that he was overreacting, but the pit of dread in his stomach was telling him otherwise. 

Something horrible had happened to Chan. Jisung was sure of it. 

\----------------

Felix stared down at his phone screen with a frown. Chan hadn't responded to any of his messages since the other night and it was putting him on edge. He had heard word that hunters were out hunting more than usual and that they were becoming bolder with each new victory. He had warned Chan and the older had told him not to worry but had asked him to take care of Jisung if something did happened to him. 

Felix tried calling his friend once more, this time being notified that the number he was trying to call was no longer available. His frown deepened. It could be nothing, but to be sure, he would have to check in with Jisung. He pocketed his phone and walked down the street swiftly. Felix peered at everyone around him from his peripherals cautiously. Any one of the bodies striding past him could be a hunter. It was what put many Mysts at risk of being hunted easily because unless you knew the weak tingling scent of magic that a hunter exuded, you would never be able to distinguish human from hunter.

Felix inhaled slowly, allowing his scent receptors to sift through the dozens of smells surrounding him. He focused on a particular scent as it sparked his interest. The scent was sharp and crisp, trembling with anxiety and determination. It was perculiar to smell those two emotions together, as humans - and hunters - were generally either anxious or determined. Not both at once.

Distracted by the alluring scent, Felix slowed, eyes roving over the bustling faces around him, trying to discern where the scent could be coming from. Weaving his way through the pulsing mob of people, he followed his intincts, a strange tugging in his chest pulling him towards the scent.

He nearly tripped over his own feet when his eyes landed on a lost looking Jisung. The boy looked almost exactly the same as he had three years ago. Felix had only seen him for a split second before Chan had been dragging him off to the studio to record some music. The only difference seemed to be Jisung's bleached sandy blond hair. As Felix stepped closer to the boy, he noticed that his expression was pinched by distress and his eyes held a barely concealed panic.

Jisung held eye contact with Felix for a second before glancing away and returning to his agitated pacing. Felix appraoched him slowly as if he were a wild animal. While he knew that Jisung couldn't actually hurt him, he was still afraid that the boy might lash out if he startled him.

"H-hey, you're Chan's friend, Han Jisung, right?" He asked shakily, making his voice small and uncertain.

Jisungs head snapped in his direction, his wide eyes staring at Felix with hope. "You know Channie hyung? Do you know where he is? Is he okay? Why hasn't he messaged me? Why hasn't he come home? Does he hate me? Did I do something to upset him? Can you tell him I'm sorry if I did, please?" Felix blinked, astounded by the bombardment of questions which Jisung had somehow managed to spit out rhythmically despite nearly stumbling over his words in his rush to get them out.

Felix paused for a moment, completely awed by the blond boy standing before him, even as said boy picked at his nails nervously. A harsh tug inside his chest encouraged him to embrace Jisung as he shook his head. He closed his eyes as he uttered the words that he knew would crush the flicker of hope shining in Jisung's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Jisung hyung. I have no idea where Chan hyung is. I was actually coming to find you because I haven't heard from him since the other night and I thought maybe you would know what was going on," Jisung wrapped his arms tightly around Felix and clung to him like his life depended on it.

"I-I-I don't know. He didn't come home and I just have this aweful feeling that something horrible happened to him and the police are saying that they are too busy to deal with a hunch and I just don't know what to do. I don't even know where to begin to look! I know nothing about Chan outside of the things we do together," a tear drop startled Felix as the warm liquid fell onto his neck. He held Jisung tighter as the tears continued to fall. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to comfort Jisung. Chan never told him. He would just tell Felix when he couldn't see him because Jisung was upset. He knew that Jisung would sometimes pretend he was fine to the point that he really did seem like nothing was wrong even when he actually really upset. Chan had admitted to Felix once that if it weren't for his sense of smell, he would have never even guessed that something was wrong with Jisung. But this was the complete opposite to what Chan had ever mentioned. He had said that sometimes Jisung's emotions were too messy for even his wolf to decipher, but Felix could pinpoint every single emotion Jisung was feeling. Each emotion suggesting that what Jisung desperately needed was

"I'm sure that's not true. I'm sure you know plenty about him outside of the things you do together. I know Chan hyung can be a bit secretive- or rather private... but that's just how he is,"he paused, unsure of what to say next. He really didn't know Jisung, and he knew telling Jisung that he had the same gut feeling as he did would not be a comforting thing to hear. He glanced around and noticed a lot of people looking at them. "How about we go back to your place and talk more there? I am sure Chan hyung is fine, he probably just got sidetracked at the studio or-"

"But I checked there! He wasn't there!"Jisung pulled away from Felix and stared at him in disbelief. "And why wouldn't he message me? I live with him! Chan hyung would never not tell me if he was going to be away!" 

Felix held his hands up apologetically. "I don't know, okay? I just- I'm trying to be hopefully here," he whispered, frustration creeping into his voice. "Let's just- Let's go somewhere more private. Too many people are watching us," Jisung looked as if he were about to refuse but as he glanced between Felix's face and the people around them who shamelessly met his stare, he changed his mind. He grabbed Felix's wrist and began dragging him down the street.

"Fine, but I am only doing this because I need help finding Channie hyung."

\------------

Felix thought he could convince Jisung to stay home and wait for Chan while he searched for his friend, but, Jisung refused to be the one stuck sitting around being useless all day and told Felix that he was welcome to be laze about, but he was going to find Chan with or without Felix's help.

After a long argument, Felix caved, the tugging in his chest morphing into crushing stone the more upset and distressed Jisung became, until the pressure was too much and he granted Jisung's wish.

"Fine. You can come with me," Jisung's eyes lit up with joy at his words and a part of Felix cooed at how cute the blond boy looked when he wasn't frowning. "But, if your hunch is right, and something horrible has happened to Chan, then, you not only have to be prepared for a dangerous situation but also the possibility that Chan-" Felix swallowed hard and tears stung the corners of his eyes. He hoped beyond all hope that anything, _anything_, else had happened than what he was about to say. "The possibility that Chan hyung has tortured or killed," Jisung's face fell and Felix wish he could say something to make Jisung smile, to make him forget about the very likely devestating scenario they were going to face if they found Chan. Because even that was a major if. Hunters had learned how to cover their tracks and hide themselves over the years. It made sense considering many of the Mysts they hunted began to hunt them back as revenge.

This search for Chan would likely only end in despair and dead ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! Please, don't stop reading because Ch1 and Ch2 have been hella crap. Ch3 is going to be where I just jump into the story. I will just use dialogue and flashbacks/memories to explain what happened between Ch2 and Ch3 in future chapters. 
> 
> I genuinely hope you stick around for the rest of the story because it is so much better than how these two chapters make it appear. 
> 
> Thank you for reading SBW 💛
> 
> (btw the official colour for this story will be yellow)


	5. Chapter Three

_ Here we go, go, go, let us heal and grow. _

Chan glared at the man standing in front of him with his arms crossed. He bared his teeth at the man smirking condescendingly down at him. The handcuffs clinked and rattled viciously against the metal chain link fence as Chan attempted to free himself once more. He wanted to rip the hunter's throat out and wipe that smug expression off his face for good. 

So far, the hunter had electrocuted him at a voltage that was high enough to make his muscles seize but not high enough kill him. The hunter wanted to know where Chan's pack was. The hunter wouldn't divulge why he wanted to know, but Chan didn't care. His pack may have been full of bigoted idiots, but that didn't mean he was going to sell them out to a hunter. They were his pack, even if he didn't run with them anymore.

The smirk on the man's face grew, morphing into the smugest of grins as Chan continued to struggle against his boundings, his ankles cuffed to the fence as well. He wanted to get free of these handcuffs which were specially designed to not break even with a Mysts' enhanced strength.

  
They were inside some kind of large basement with a cement floor and walls. Fortunately, it was a cool temperatured room because Chan swore his body felt unbearably hot from the rage boiling his blood. The fence he was attached to was drilled into the ground by tall poles which reached the ceiling. The fence enclosed a small empty cage-like space against the wall, from where several faint terrified scents lingered. It was a cage for the hunter's conquests. A place for him to lock up innocent Mysts and torture them before either killing or selling them.

A low growl tore through Chan's throat at the scents. He could distinguish a few different species, but primarily he smelt wolves. Wolves, werewolves and lycanthropes. Many human myths lumped the three species variants together as one creature but the truth was that they were as different as the shetland pony was to the clysdale horse. Or the greyhound to the staffy. Although they were of the same family, they were not the same creature.

A lycan shifted into a beastly wolf-human form that loped around on two powerful hindlegs and sported a dangerous snout which was the culprit for turning the innocent (or not so innocent) humans it attacked during the full moon. The issue with lycans was that they could turn humans into lycans without the human's consent. Meaning that if the lycan happened to go on a turning spree, a village could become overrun by lycans. It is also the variant with the least amount control on its vicious beast.

Werewolves were the product of a lycan and a wolf pack joining. They were blessed with the beautiful full wolf form, but cursed with the lycans involuntarily shift during the full moon, as well as the aggression and temper generally witnessed amongst lycans. However, this aggression is abated by the calming inherent balance the wolf variant has. A werewolf can be born human or werewolf and could only turn humans with their explicit consent. While a lycan rarely retained any memory from their forced shifts during the full moon, werewolves with training could maintain control and remember everything from their forced shifts.

Wolves were born with the inherent balance between wolf and human and were the only variant out of the three variants who could shift at will at anytime. The effect of the full moon usually entailed their wolf side begging for more control and often made them antsy and tense if they did not shift into their wolf form. Their wolf forms looked like normal wolves, except for their massive size which could be comparable with the size of a thoroughbred horse. However, the joys of being a wolf had to be abated somehow, and that somehow happened to come in the form of heats and ruts.

Heats were something that affected omegas and some betas. It entailed the wolf becoming increasingly needy and horny as their body produced a sweet smelling slick which attracted the attention of alphas from miles away. An omega's heat is the strongest in scent and intensity and the omega often loses themself to the need of being marked and claimed by an alpha or beta.

Betas that went into heat were considered omega-betas and their heats were less enticing for alphas, possibly due to omegas being the most fertile for an alpha, however, the intensity was no less painful. In fact, in many cases, it seemed as if a beta in heat experienced more painful waves as they were often ignored by alphas because of their more neutral sent and omega-beta substatus. 

Ruts affected alphas and the other half of betas. It entailed an almost agressive desire to claim an omega and required the alpha to knot. An alpha in rut, similarly to the omega, releases a large amount of pheromones to attract a wolf to knot and claim.

Betas that went into rut were considered alpha-betas and often demonstrate more alpha like qualities during a rut. Unlike with a beta in heat, the betas who experience ruts don't become as lost in the need to claim an omega as an alpha does. Their scent is subdued but flares up more than an omega-beta in heat, and as such, they can trigger an omega's heat.

While 80% of betas experience heats or ruts, 20% of betas experience neither and have the weakest and least enticing scents. These 20% of wolves are highly respected despite this and are often sought out as they are reliable heat or rut companions as they can help ensure the wolf in heat or rut doesnt injure themself or others. They are usually workers in areas where wolves in heat or rut generally go to as a safe place. Although many of these betas may experience bullying during school before wolves come of age to present, they are less bullied than omegas and once wolves around them begin to present, they become a safe haven. Their lack of sexual interference from a heat or rut and lack of scent seems to be replaced by the neutralising scent they can release to nullify the stench of a wolf in heat or rut. In Chan's opinion, these betas should be given special treatment as there are so few of them in comparison the the affected wolves.

  
But, no one ever listened to Chan's opinions. That was why Chan wasn't with a pack like most wolves. Although all variants felt the pull of belonging to a pack, wolves felt it the strongest due to their more natural wolf side. But Chan refused to be a part of a pack that refused to listen to his progressive ideas. Unfortunately, the lack of a pack left Chan more vulnerable to an attack. Which is why he was now bound to the side of a cage in the basement of a hunter's lair. Well, that's what he blamed it on anyway. He refused to acknowledge that it was because he had been so caught up in his raging jealousy that he had walked right into the hunter's trap.

His muscles felt fatigued as if he had been hanging there for weeks- because he was practically hanging off of this sturdy fence with his toes barely able to press solidy against the concrete floor, his body suspended by his handcuffed hands above his head.

The scent of the wolves before him swirled into his nostrils more noticeably now. It was as if now that he had acknowledged them, that they were begging him not to leave them, as if the wolves had left parts of their scared souls behind in their scents. His scent receptors began to pick apart the scents, distentangling the mixture of different wolves' scents as the smug hunter sauntered out of the basement, walking up surprisingly sturdy looking steps to a door Chan could not see from where he was thanks to a massive built-in cabinet beside the outside of the stairs. The sound of the door opening, closing and locking barely registered in Chan's mind as his mind ran rampant with thoughts in the cold silence. His body only seemed to be growing hotter, the cold air within the basement chilling the sweat sliding down his arms and neck. As he continued to absently search the scents from within the cage, his thoughts focused on Jisung.

Chan was certain that the boy would be panicking with Chan's absence, especially if the guy he was with that night had told him that Chan had seen them. Not that it would have been easy to miss. They had been on the couch in the lounge room after all. The scent of arousal had been thick and suffocating. The stranger's scent was intriguing and vaguely familiar but Chan couldn't place why. But that scent hadn't been what had sent him into a tizzy of jealousy and anger. It had been Jisung's scent and moans as the stranger sucked hickeys onto his skin languidly, while thrusting into him with just as much unhurriedness.

Jisung's scent had been so heavy with arousal and want that Chan was surprised that the stranger wasn't choking. His moans were unlike anything he had heard before. They were breathy and drawn out, pitched and desperate. It sent aggressive tingles racing up and down his spine. His wolf had wanted nothing more than to tear the stranger off of Jisung and claim Jisung right then and there so that no one would ever touch him.

He had barely managed to convince his feet to turn him around and take him outside when the stranger's eyes stared into his own as he continued to fuck Jisung and mark him up. The stranger smirked at Chan before biting lightly into the base of Jisung's neck- the spot where a wolf would leave their mating mark - eliciting the loudest moan Chan had ever heard from Jisung followed by murmured desperate pleas that even Chan's enhanced hearing couldn't catch. The stranger had maintained eye contact with Chan the entire time and it had taken all of the strength Chan had in him to leave the house and not act on his jealous impulses. Because, did he even have a right to be jealous when he had been pushing Jisung away recently?

The scents and sounds had lingered in Chan's nostrils and ears, echoing endlessly as he stalked the streets without regard for where he was heading or how he looked. He was certain by the way people were scattering away from him that he likely looked like the embodiment of a tornado. He knew that with people scattering away from him he would likely draw the attention of hunters in the area, but he figured if they were smart, they would leave him alone.

Or perhaps it was smarter to capture him while he was so lost in the raging jealousy whipping viciously at his chest. He had stumbled so easily into this hunter's trap afterall. So, so, so easily.

He was torn from his thoughts when the door crashed open and slammed shut before footsteps raced down the steps in a flurry of panic. The hunter met his eyes with wide, terrified eyes. His brown hair was dishevelled and his body trembled with fear while his anxiety spiked the air with a sharp spearmint scent. It was a unique and distinct scent and Chan's brow furrowed.

Everyone, including humans and hunters had their own particular scents, but generally they all had a similar scent for each emotion, the only time they had their own distinct scent was if they were a human born from a werewolf. But the hunter could not be that. Hunters were nothing more than humans with the faint fizzy scent of magic from the decades old spell from a spiteful wizard- or was it a mage? Chan had never really payed much attention to legend. He figured it didn't matter how the hunters came to be, but rather how he could avoid or kill them.

A hunter would never be anything other than human as they took pleasure in slaughtering Mysts, they would never sleep with the enemy- well, unless it was a high fae who managed to seduce them before eventually getting bored and discarding them. But even then, a fae-hunter or any Mysts-hunter hybrid was compeltely unheard of, so this hunter's scent made no sense.

Chan shook off the weird uniqueness of the scent and blamed it on his fatigued mind. There was no way that was the hunter's scent. It must belong to whatever creature he had gone off to hunt this time. Loud bangs against the basement door shuddered through the building and the smell of spearment spiked, suffocating Chan's sense of smell. A small whimper escaped the hunter's lips as he stared up to where the door was situated, despite the fact that he wouldn't be able to see it from where he was standing as he was more towards Chan's left, the furthest away from the staircase and door.

The banging ceased and Chan's attention was drawn back towards the door he could not see. The silence was unsettling, but not as unsettling as the eerie voices that emanated from behind the door.

"_Woojinnie?_" It was a woman's voice. She sounded sad, disheartened, hurt as she spoke. "_Woojin, darling, why won't you let me in? Woojin? Please, baby, don't lock mummy out._" Chan's gaze snapped towards the hunter, Woojin, as the salty smell of tears and a strange tangy lemon scent of despair flooded the room, drowning the anxious spearmint smell. Tears trailed lazily down Woojin's face as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly as if to prevent them from escaping.

"_Come on Woojin dear, don't be cruel to your mother_," a deep masculine voice cut through the silence. "_Let us in. We just want to talk_."

Chan kept his eyes trained on the hunter. Why was he so terrified and upset by his parents? Before Chan could open his mouth to ask, Woojin's voice wobbled through the room hoarsely. "Go away," his words were weak, feeble. They were meant to be screamed, to be ragefully shouted as an order but instead, they were reduced to nothing more than a painful whispered whimper.

The furious screeching in response chilled Chan's burning body to the core. The voices squabbled and mixed together the end product being a ghastly sounding demonic mixture of the woman and the man's voices.

Chan stared at Woojin with saucers for eyes as he realised what exactly was behind that door. The banging resumed and the house shook with the violence behind the creature's ramming.

It was a Boarus. Woojin was running and hiding from a Boarus. Terror shot through Chan's veins. They were going to die. The Boarus was going to break through that door and come down here and tear them apart, all while mimicing the voices of those they wanted to hear the most. A thought paused Chan's panic for a second, who would he hear? Would he hear his parents? Would he hear Jisung's voice? What voice would the beast choose for him.

A clanging crash snapped him out of his reverie and he observed open mouthed as Woojin rushed around the space with hurried steps, throwing things everywhere as he searched for something. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Where the fuck did I put it?" His angered mutterings grew louder the more distressed he grew.

Both boys froze when a crack echoed through the house. A stunned silence followed as if the beast was surprised by its own achievement. Chan wasn't sure what had broken, but thankfully it sounded as if the door was still intact. Unfortunately, whatever damage the Boarus had caused only seemed to renew its energy and the loud banging resumed, the echoing sounds mixing with the sound of the next bang. The house shuddered violently as the beast threw itself at the door with all of its strength.

"Aha!" Chan dragged his eyes back to Woojin. He hadn't even realised that his gaze had moved back to the general direction of the door. Woojin held a small silver item between his fingers, the reflective surface catching the slightly yellow light of the shaking bulb above Woojin. Chan couldn't understand why, but the triumphant smile on Woojin's face calmed his racing heart. He ignored the strange emotion that warmed his chest, but appreciated the calm it gave his racing heart and mind. His eyes narrowed as Woojin began to load a gun with the shiny silver item. It was a bullet. A silver bullet. The boy continued to load the weapon with silver bullets. Apprehension washed over Chan. While silver bullets alone were not able to kill a wolf unless shot through the head or heart, they were still extremely painful. Something within the silver bullets was rejected by the bodies of the wolves, lycans and werewolves and made for an excruciating wound, especially if the bullet was not removed.

Woojin looked up once he was done loading the weapon and met Chan's wary stare, his eyes shone with fear and determination. He frowned at Chan before flinching and jumping backwards instinctively as the door shattered with one final violent crash. It was a wonder that the beast hadn't come tumbling down the stairs.

Chan retracted in on himself, pulling himself as tightly as he could into the fence, allowing the reinforced wire to press into his back as the overwhelming scent of lavender and rot wafted into the room. His entire body shook with anticipation and fear. His eyes were trained on the part of the stairs he could see from where he was, but from his peripherals he could see Woojin creeping warily closer, his footfalls nonexistent as he moved stealthily forward. The gun was raised, safety off and pointed towards the stairs. Shock and relief shot through Chan. Woojin planned on shooting the Boarus.

Slow steps plodded lazily down the steps as the beast made its way down towards Chan and Woojin. The first thing Chan glimpsed was the beasts snout, but it was enough to send terror trembling through his bones and make his blood run cold, freezing his veins. Spearmint faintly tinged the air with anxiety, despite the already heavy stench of lavender. The rest of the head followed by the rest of the beast's body edged into view. A twisted smile stretched the rotten creature's face into a disgusting display of rotten flesh and yellowing bones.

Boarus. A beast of nightmares told to children as a cautionary tale to never blindly trust your senses, because even they can lie to you. The Boarus were rare, so rare that they were mostly just a scary beast of rot and deception that parents told their children to keep them close during the nighttime. The beast had the body reminiscent of a grizzly bear sized boar. It's skin had rotted away, leaving behind rotting black flesh and protruding bones. Accompanying the beast was always the stench of rot and the unsettling, alluring scent of lavender- although different species claimed that they smelt a different scent with the rotting smell. Chan assumed that as the beast's primary hunting method was to lure prey before devouring it, that the creature of rot and deception likely altered it's scent to attract what it was hunting. And lavender was a scent that accompanied and omega's usual scent during a heat. Lavender was a relaxing scent for alphas. It made them let down their guard. The scent could easily leave Chan more susceptible to the beast's deception. Chan's brow furrowed as he breifly wondered why it would smell of lavender when it was hunting Woojin who was a hunter, a human.

He broke himself away from the thought as he held himself perfectly still, hoping he would remain unnoticrd as the creature placed a blackened hoof against the concrete ground. The other hooves followed slowly as it turned its body slowly to face Woojin. Chan couldn't tear his eyes away from the beast barely five metres away from him. 

"_Woojinnie_," the foul creature cooed in the hunter's mother's voice. The slow movements, the mimicked voice, the scent. It was all apart of the Boarus's hunt. It loved the hunt. It _loved_ it. The Boarus's mimicry was as alluring as a siren's call, it choosing the voice its prey wants to hear the most. The Boarus was believed to be telepathic to some extent as it knew what voice you wanted to hear the most and it knew how to replicate that voice to a T without ever hearing the voice before. To lure prey, the beast would pick a creature in distress as they were the most susceptible to its charms. The more desperate the prey, the better.

The most terrifying thing about the Boarus was how much it loved the hunt. Often doing the opposite of most predators and distancing itself from its prey. However, what seems like a ridiculous hunting method churns the stomachs of even the most stoic of warriors because the creature uses its mimicry to lure its chosen victim away from others or towards its den before either devouring the poor creature while still calling out to the victim with the voice it used to lure it there, or revealing itself and chasing down its prey as terror floods its veins. Boarus were swift, intelligent, terrifying beasts that everyone except for the demon-fae hybrids feared. Even high demons steered clear of the beasts.

"_Come now, Woojin darling. Why don't you put the gun down? You don't want to hurt your mother do you?_" Chan's eyes slid towards Woojin, straining to see the boy out of his peripherals as he was too afraid to turn his head for fear it might catch the Boarus's attention. Spearment cut through the lavender doused air, only growing in intensity as the pungent tang of citrus wafted alongside it. From what Chan could just barely see, it looked as if Woojin was just standing there, gun shaking in his trembling hands. Why hadn't he started shooting the beast yet?! Chan's instincts screamed at him to get away, but the scent of lavender only seemed to flare up and drown the whole room in the alluring and calming scent, washing away any traces of spearmint and lemon. Chan felt the tension in his muscles relax slightly. The handcuff chains rattled at the slight shift.

The Boarus's large head turned towards him, its beady black eyes narrowing as they focused on him. The beast took a single step in his direction and Chan struggled against the handcuffs restraining him. He was basically served on a platter for this beast. He couldn't run, couldn't escape, couldn't do anything. As quickly as panic sent his limbs shaking violently, it disappeared.

"_Channie hyung_," his brain fumbled and his body went statue still. It was Jisung's voice. "_Channie..._" Chan struggled to clear his head at the desperate, needy whisper as lavender flooded his senses. "_Channie hyung, I need you_," the phrase tore a low growl from Chan's throat as his mind became clouded with lavender soaked images.

Echoing bangs rang out through the room. The Boarus's banshee like shrieking shattering whatever spell it had placed on Chan. It's massive head whirled in Woojin's direction as the hunter continued to shoot the beast. Enraged, the creature charged Woojin. The putrid stench of rot clung to the air heavily, suffocating the comforting lavender smell, clearing Chan's lust clouded mind. However, pure unadulterated terror whirled through him like a hurricane, tearing at his insides and drenching his other emotions with a merciless onslaught of desperation.

Chan cried out in warning as he helplessly watched the Boarus launch itself at Woojin who continued to shoot the practically unaffected beast even as he was pinned to the ground by one of its gigantic hooves pressing against his chest, part of the bone crumbling onto Woojin's clothes. The hoarse gasping breaths of Woojin struggling to breath as the beast crushed his chest set a furious determination alight in Chan. He had to get free! He lashed about, frantically trying to free himself from the handcuffs to no avail. A gurgling sound rumbled through the air and Chan froze before realising that the beast was chuckling. An uneasy shudder travelled up Chan's spine.

"_Oh, my poor Woojin_,"the creature cooed, it's tone anything but concerned as it used Woojin's mother's voice once again. "_It's okay baby, mummy will take away all your pain_," the large rotten head moved down towards Woojin's throat as its voice distorted into something demonic. "_Just let mummy kiss it better_."

"Woojin!" Chan didn't even realise what he had done until he was launching himself at the Boarus, jaw open, teeth bared, ears flat against his head, vicious growl vibtating through the air. The monster screeched as he latched onto its throat with his jaws, his large claws digging into the flesh of its shoulders, shredding the rotten flesh with little resistence as gravity pulled him downwards.

The beast bucked and shook itself violently, throwing its body around the room in an attempt to dislodge Chan from its back. The taste of the rotten flesh in his mouth was revolting, but he only dug his canines into the flesh deeper as his claws began to scrabble for something to cling to.

A loud yelp escaped his mouth as he was almost crushed against one of the support beams. He was flung from the beast's body, landing with a heavy thud and another yelp. The beast turned towards him, its eyes glowing red with rage. He stared it down defiantly as it charged at him. He knew it planned to impale him with its tusks. He knew it knew that he couldn't move, that his body was unable to repsond to his commands to jump up and attack due to the numerous breaks he had sustained after being semi-crushed and then thrown. Despite this, he bared his teeth, challenging the beast. He would die fighting. He would die knowing he didn't give up. He would die protecting Woojin. No one deserved to die at the hands of such a disgusting beast.

With a rush of adrenaline, he managed to push the front half of his body up, his forelegs trembling from the effortfor a moment until the adrenaline soothed them into steadiness. He glared at the Boarus, his ears flat against his head as the large boar like creature glalloped towards him. He would tear the beast's eyes out! A malicious growl rumbled deep in his throat in preparation for what was coming.

However, the tusks never impaled him. Instead, a deafening series of bangs echoed through the air and the beast jerked backwards, collapsing into a twisted, rotten heap of oozing green liquid and black flesh. A body he had somehow missed moving in front of him turned towards him and blocked his view of the horrifying creature.

The ringing in Chan's ears seemed to carry the echoes of the gunshots which had just killed the Boarus. An underwater voice struggled to reach him through the current of his fading mind. The adrenaline disappeared without warning, abandoning him the moment he acknowledged that the threat was dead. He crashed forward as his legs gave up. He winced as his head smacked against the concrete. A black darkness seeped into the edges of his vision, bleeding out to consume his sight completely. He thrashed against the darkness in a frantic panic as images of the Boarus's black as tar flesh filled his mind. Chan ignored the faint anxious voice calling out to him. He couldn't focus on that voice, he needed to get away, he had to get away before the Boarus killed him.

A viscous, metallic tasting liquid coated his tongue suddenly and he was jarred out of his traumatised mind and yanked into the dark oblivion of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... how are we feeling?   
I will be honest with you, I was happy with this chapter when I first wrote it yesterday, but after rereading it and editing it, I just wish I had time to rewrite it all... but alas, it is updating day and you deserve a chapter.   
I hope you enjoy this chapter and that it isn't hella confusing like my latest chapter in IHY! was..   
This will be the last chapter of 2019. The next chapter will be published next year, in 2020... isn't that insane?!   
Thank you for reading, commenting, leaving kudos on this story 💛


	6. A/N - I'm going on hiatus

Our dog has a degenerative hip disease. We have to put her down. I'm going on hiatus. 


	7. Chapter Four

_You won't be alone, we're unstoppable._

The anxious smell of spearmint clung to Chan's nostrils as he inhaled sharply. He sat up with a start, wincing as the movement jarred his still healing body. Glancing around fervently, he searched for the Boarus, certain that he would find the beast looming over him, ready to devour him while stealing Jisung's voice. His racing heart calmed when he realised that he was in a bedroom and not the basement, that the Boarus was nowhere in sight.

He exhaled a sigh of relief noisily through his nostrils. He was safe. The scent of spearmint disappeared, and his brows furrowed for a moment before he shook it off as his imagination. His eyes roamed over the room and he frowned. This wasn't his room. This wasn't even Jisung's room. He looked down and saw that the covers and bed weren't familiar either. His head moved left and right as his muscles tensed. Where was he?

Before he could contemplate how he could have gotten into the room, the door opened. The person entering the room froze as their eyes met Chan's dark gaze. In their hands was a tray with two identical plates of food.

"You're awake?" The voice was hoarse and it cracked painfully over the words. Chan frowned at the surprise in the question, his eyes dropping to the food as his stomach rumbled excitedly. He was starving. He dragged his eyes back up to meet the hunter's uncertain gaze. Woojin hadn't moved a muscle since he entered the room, his free hand still resting atop the doorknob awkwardly, his movements paused mid step.

"I brought you some food. I didn't think you would be awake, but I brought you some just in case," Chan smiled slightly at Woojin's nervous rambling. It was almost endearing and a small blossom of fondness warmed Chan's chest. The hunter finally moved and shut the door, turning the handle with a wide-eyed stare locked on the door after the action was complete.

Tangy lemon scented the air with sorrow before the spearmint punched through it. Chan threw the covers off of himself as an instinctive realisation struck him. Woojin was thinking about the Boarus. The scent of spearmint the exact same as the one that had lingered in the room when Chan woke up. He paused for a second, his eyes widening slightly. The nightmare of the Boarus must have trapped Chan so far into his memories that he had vividly remembered the distinct scent of Woojin's fear.

"Hey," he whispered softly so as not to startle the boy. No response. Woojin's eyes remained glued to the door, his anxiety spiking as he began to lose himself to the memory of the Boarus. Chan stood silently, wincing and sucking in a sharp breath as pain shot up his right leg. He limped cautiously towards Woojin who was now trembling, his bottom lip wobbling as lemon once again swamped Chan's senses. He was curious as to what happened before Woojin ran into the basement. How had he even come across a Boarus? What had happened to leave him so traumatised and upset? What memories had closing the door triggered?

"Hey," he whispered again. "Hey, Woojin," he spoke slowly, keeping his voice soft and quiet as he reached out a gentle hand to touch Woojin's shoulder. While Chan was expecting Woojin to flinch, he didn't expect the hunter to practically jump out his skin and whirl away from him as if he had been burned.

The reaction stung Chan's heart, and he frowned. He didn't understand why him being the reason Woojin's anxiety intensified was distressing but he didn't have time to contemplate it. The food tray teetered precariously in Woojin's hands and Chan leapt forward, snatching the tray from the hunter's hands before it could fall and spill everywhere. With a heavy sigh, Chan limped towards the bedside table and placed the tray delicately on the wooden surface. He paused as his knuckles dragged against the polished surface. It reminded him of his table at home.

Home. Heartache twanged in his chest. He missed Jisung. He stared at the pancakes in front of him silently. Jisung's favourite breakfast meal was pancakes with ice cream and strawberries. Chan loved waking up early and making Jisung breakfast. He loved the way Jisung's eyes would always light up in pleasant surprise, as if he never expected Chan to make him breakfast even though Chan had been doing it for almost an entire year.

"Do you not like pancakes?" Chan startled, his head snapping in the hunters direction, eyes wide with surprise. Woojin's expression was tense and held an anxious uncertainty. Chan's brow furrowed and guilt tingled through his veins for a reason he could not comprehend.

"No, no, I love pancakes," he whispered, dragging his gaze back to the pancakes almost despairingly. "It's just-" he cut himself off with a sigh. A deeply rooted despair flared up inside of his stomach, making him feel nauseous. He swallowed slowly as he fought the dizziness that made the world spin. He squeezed his eyes shut in hopes that it would stop the merry-go-round like feeling. Fatigue crashed through him suddenly and he stumbled to the bed before collapsing heavily onto the edge, barely managing to keep himself sitting up as overwhelming exhaustion pressed down on him.

"Are you okay?" Woojin's worried voice echoed in Chan's ears, he vaguely registered that there were hands on his forehead, arms, cheeks. Chan opened his eyes and sent Woojin a weak smile, his head tilting upwards to meet the concerned eyes of the boy who he couldn't help but allow his body relax against as he lost the strength to hold himself up.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Woojin frowned, his hands reaching out to smooth Chan's hair in what could be considered a soothing way. Chan absently leaned into the touch, seeking comfort as he closed his tired eyes. He wondered if this exhaustion was from all the healing he had been doing to fix his broken bones. He must have been hurt more than he realised to be this tired.

"You don't seem like it," Woojin muttered reproachfully.

The fingers dragging through his hair were gentle and calming. Apparently the action also helped calm Woojin who had chosen to sit beside Chan without halting his actions and his anxious scent dispersed into the air to be replaced by Woojin's more neutral scent. Chan's brow creased as his mind wandered back to the pancakes before traversing into the memories he had tried to push away.

He thought about Jisung. He thought about how gentle and caring the boy was. He thought about how enchanting his smile was as his face lit up with happiness and his eyes gleemed with excitement. A small smile played at the edges of his lips as he remembered Jisung's buoyant laughter from the other day - was it even the other day? How long had he been here now? - when Chan had told him some stupid (and ridiculously horrible) dad joke.

"Hey, don't fall asleep. You need to eat, otherwise you won't be able to heal," Woojin's voice jarred him from his thoughts. He almost whimpered as the vivid memory of Jisung's carefree laughter faded away and was replaced by the imprisoning despair of reality. Chan would never see Jisung again. He would never be able to hear him laugh again. He would never be able to hold him as he became overwhelmed by his anxiety. He would never be able to see his face light up when he saw Chan had made breakfast. He would never be able to say goodbye. He would just be gone from Jisung's life without warning.

A desperate sadness clung to him and the room was flooded by a strange bitter scent that exposed his sorrow. "I'm not hungry," he muttered dejectedly while pulling away from Woojin- the hunter, he reminded himself. In the back of his mind, his wolf whimpered weakly at the loss of contact, but Chan ignored it, attributing the clinginess of his wolf to being the need for a pack while injured for safety and healing. He shifted away from the hunter before allowing his body to fall sideways so his cheek hit the pillow with a soft thump sound. He spared a brief glance at Woojin and instantly regretted it. His expression portrayed his hurt at the sudden rejection. Chan glanced away and focused his stare on the door. In the fog of his receding mind, Chan found the expression odd. This man had hunted and tortured him and yet had the audacity to look hurt by Chan not wanting to indulge his sudden kindness.

A burning fury scorched his lungs as the hunter's voice sounded once again. He swallowed a growl.

"Chan," Woojin began, his tone reprimanding, his eyes portraying a tired confusion and annoyance. "You have to eat. It is the only way to get better," Chan almost scoffed at the hunter's seemingly sincere words of care. What was the point of Chan healing if the hunter would just injure him again while torturing him for information he wouldn't and couldn't give. Chan closed his eyes as a thought flashed into his mind. He didn't want to live if he couldn't see Jisung again. The world was too dark without the sun or moon, and Jisung was both for Chan. The boy always illuminated the world for him, always stopped the darkness from consuming him. Chan couldn't live without his light.

"I _don't _want to eat," he growled at the hunter, the aggressive, rumbling sound finally escaping his throat. His eyes snapped open in surprise when the weight on the bed suddenly disappeared as Woojin practically leapt off of it and stormed over to the tray of food. A new scent pulsed off of Woojin in jagged waves.

"Well, Idon't care what _you _want. You are going to eat so that you have the strength to finish healing yourself," the older boy snapped as he slammed the tray down onto the bottom of the bed before storming out of the room. The echoing slam of the door was punctuated by the angry scent of burnt cinnamon.

Chan blinked at the closed door silently. What the hell was that? The question rebounded around his mind, pulsing with the violent pounding in his head that threatened to crack open his skull. The heavy hood of sleep dragged over his mind, brushing away his questions and replacing them with a dark void that beckoned him with the enticing offer of freedom from the shooting agony of his pounding head. Squeezing his eyes shut, Chan welcomed the tug of sleep, ignoring the itching nagging in the back of his mind shouting that he was missing something. The dark claws of sleep swiftly flicked away the bothersome thoughts before sinking into Chans consciousness and ripping it away from him before replacing it with a merciless dreamland.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chan slipped into a fitful sleep riddled with feverish dreams, his body burning up several degrees higher than was considered healthy. His whines and whimpers went unheard by him, but Woojin, who had already been heading to the room to make sure Chan had eaten, heard them.

He hurried his steps and stumbled over his own feet as he opened the door too quickly. Guilt crashed through him as he beheld the sight before him. Chan's skin was covered in a shiny sheen of sweat causing his clothes to stick to his body and his hair to stick to his face. Woojin's nose wrinkled at the faint tingly scent of hibiscus flower mixing with a gluggy tar like scent.

Ignoring the strange scent, he rushed forward and swiftly relocated the untouched food back to the bedside table before yanking the blankets off of the overheated Myst. Without hesitation, Woojin scooped up the unconscious creature into his arms and carried him out of the room and towards the bathroom. After gently lowering Chan into the bathtub and adjusting the water to a lukewarm temperature, he ran out to the kitchen to grab his thermometer.

It took a few seconds of searching as the object had been accidentally deposited into the wrong drawer, but the moment Woojin retrieved the thermometer, he raced back to the bathroom. Noting that the bathtub was half full and that in his fitful restlessness Chan had slipped down and almost submerged himself in the water, Woojin turned the taps off and repositioned Chan into a sitting position. The creature whimpered at the movement and guilt tickled up Woojin's spine before digging its claws into his chest. If only he had just stayed in the room and forced Chan to eat, maybe the boy wouldn't be in so much pain. He scowled, a darkness flickering in his eyes. He shouldn't have let his stress turn to anger so quickly. And he should have checked Chan's temperature properly the moment he woke up.

When Woojin had felt Chan's forehead when he slumped onto the bed, he had felt hotter than he had when he was sleeping, but Woojin had no idea how hot a wolf's skin was supposed to feel and figured it was fine. It was not fine.

After brushing Chan's slick hair out of the way, he held the digital thermometer that resembled the one doctors used up to Chan's ear. The temperature reading was immediate and the guilty claws sunk even deeper into his chest, the sharp tips threatening to pierce his lungs. It really wasn't fine. Chan's temperature was way too high, he was sure of it. Woojin raced out of the bathroom, nearly collided with the wall and snatched up his mother's journal from his bed before sprinting back to the bathroom.

Thankfully, Chan hadn't unconsciously tried to drown himself again and remained in the same position Woojin had left him in. With trembling hands, Woojin frantically flicked through the journal. Thumbing swiftly through the pages, he almost missed the page he needed. Flicking back to the correct page, he exhaled in relief at having found it so quickly. His relief was short lived as he read his mother's delicately scrawled words.

For some odd reason, his mother had taken the time to note down extra information that hunters did not learn during their Awakening. In fact, as far as Woojin knew, no hunter bothered learning anything on Mysts besides how to identify and kill them. So, Woojin had wondered for many nights now, why his mother had taken the time to learn and write down extra information that was irrelevant to their inherited job. Although, this wasn't the first time he was grateful for his mother's seemingly studious nature in regards to Mysts. It had helped him contain Chan and attempt to pressure him into telling him where he could find the Bang pack without killing the boy or torturing him in the usual way. And now, it would hopefully help him with whatever was wrong with Chan now.

He skimmed past the unnecessary information about the other two variants and stopped when he saw what he was looking for. He knew for certain that Chan was a wolf as his mother's notes had briefly explained the difference between the three. Werewolves displayed traits of both lycans and wolves but their wolf forms were almost half the size of the wolf variant but despite having this wolf form, they could only transform during a full moon. Lycanthropes were bipedal, monstrous wolf-human hybrids who were cursed to lose control on the full moon. Wolves were the opposite. They had a human and a wolf form and they could change into either form at will - as Woojin had witnessed when Chan transformed into his giant wolf form to escape his handcuffs and attack the Boarus.

The guilt pressed further into his lungs. The creature he had been torturing had risked his own life to defend Woojin, a hunter. It was something that was unheard of. Mysts and hunters had been killing each other for decades. It baffled Woojin that one of the creatures, one of the beasts he was supposed to hunt and kill had saved him. It went against everything he knew. His brows furrowed as he read his mother's notes.

_Wolves naturally have a higher body temperature than humans. It sits comfortably at 56 degrees Celsius. Unlike humans, their temperature can raise by almost 20 degrees before they are at risk. Their temperature generally raises an extra 17-19 degrees during a heat or rut. However, even a mere two degrees higher and the wolves are in serious danger. An ill wolf with a fever can lead to death if left untreated for longer than half an hour._

Woojin glanced at the thermometer and his eyes widened in terror. Chan was well above the a safe temperature. He had a raging fever at 102.7 degrees Celsius. Woojin continued to read in the hopes that his mother had written down what he needed to do to help Chan. However, as he flicked through several pages without luck, he began to lose hope, but just as he went to close the journal, a line of words caught his attention and he opened the book up onto that page.

_The wolf died. I tried to save him, but his temperature was just too high, his injuries too severe, his strength too depleted._

Woojin stared at the page in surprised confusion. His mother had tried to save a wolf? She had never showed any inclination of being cruel, but Woojin had not expected her to try to help a Myst.

_The bath seemed to help lower his temperature the most. I made the water tepid before slowly adding ice cubes to slowly drop the temperature of the water while making sure most of his body was submerged. I left a wet washer on his forehead like my mother had done for me during my own fevers. I think it helped. His temperature dropped by almost 30 degrees. But, it wasn't enough._

Woojin leapt up from his squatting position and ran to the freezer to retrieve the 5kg bag of ice his mother had always insisted on keeping in the freezer, much to his father's and his own confusion. Now, it made sense. She was prepared for the worst. For the 'just in case' that would never have been possible with his father around...

Returning to the bathroom, he tore the bag open before dumping a handful of ice cubes into the tub. Casting aside the bag of ice, he began pushing Chan into the water. He faced no resistance. It was scary how still the wolf's body was considering how restless he had been moments before. Woojin wondered if that meant that the water was working. He held the unconscious boy up slightly so that he wouldn't slip under the water and drown. After determining that he would be able to catch Chan before that did happen, he carefully released him after repositioning him so slipping under was less likely. He crawled towards the cabinet and rummaged through it for a face washer. He hummed in relief as he pulled one out before returning to kneeling beside the bath. He dunked and wrung out the washer before placing it against the blond's forehead carefully.

He sat there for a few minutes, just observing before he noticed that the ice in the bath had melted. Grabbing another handful, he allowed the cold cubes to fall into the water. He tested the water and noticed that it was still surprisingly tepid. Picking up the thermometer he checked the boy's temperature. It had only dropped by two degrees.

Panicking, Woojin pulled out two extra handfuls of ice cubes and dumped them swiftly into the water. The previous handful had only half melted but Woojin was concerned that it wasn't going to cool the water enough to break Chan's fever. He redid the washer on Chan's forehead, dunking and wringing out the soft fabric before holding it to Chan's forehead once more.

Suddenly, Chan began to thrash around, his body convulsing violently. The washer slid into the tub while water and melting ice cubes splashed everywhere. Ignoring the spray of water and ice cubes pelting his skin, Woojin struggled to get Chan out of the bath before he injured or drowned himself. His anxiety skyrocketed as he basically had to drag the squirming body out of the tub. He deposited him on the ground, rolling him onto his side and into recovery position as he tried to recall what he was supposed to do when someone was having a seizure. However, his mind was clouded by fear and he was unable to remember anything his father had taught him about first aid.

To Woojin, his father had simply been a history and psychology teacher who had a hobby as a first aid instructor. Now, Woojin knew that there was more behind his father's career options than he had first believed.

Chan continued to convulse violent and Woojin's thoughts slipped further and further into panic. Unbeknownst to Woojin, his anxious scent flooded the room, drowning the increasing stench of boiling tar and seeping into Chan's lungs as he inhaled, sharp and uneven before exhaling shakily. The hunter moved jerkily with shallow breaths as he tried to rein in his out of control fear. His parents had taught him better than this. They had taught him how to remain calm even in situations that terrified him to the core, so why couldn't he do it now?

A moment of clarity sliced through the dense cloud of panic in Woojin's mind and he scrambled towards the bath to retrieve the face washer. His fingers grazed the soaked fabric as they ensnared the washer. The cold fabric made his fingers tingle and cleared the remaining fog from his mind. His scent began to settle into its calming neutral scent of a vaguely familiar spice. He pressed the washer to Chan's forehead, holding it there to ensure it didn't slip off while he was laying on his side. The Myst's thrashing eventually ceased, the violent movements gradually decreasing until the pained scrunch of Chan's face disappeared and a calm expression took over. Woojin exhaled in relief, his hand was numb from the ice cold water he had been repeatedly dunking the cloth into and pressing against the boy's forehead.

With a groan, Woojin sat up slightly. He had been hunched over for hours, barely moving except to redunk the washer, and his lower back, knees and ankles all felt it. Pins and needles shot up and down his legs while his knees clicked uncomfortably as his weight shifted. His ankles threatened to crack at the new placement of weight against them but he ignored the discomfort in favour for placing the cloth beside him and picking up the thermometer.

Hearing the beep of the device turning on, Woojin held it to Chan's ear. The reading flashed several different numbers, each new numerical value displaying a decreasing trend that had a relieved exhale drawn out of Woojin. Chan's staggeringly high temperature had dropped to a safer 76 degrees Celsius. It was still 20 degrees higher than a wolf's usual temperature, but it was safe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! How are you? I hope you are healthy and safe. I finally worked out how to complete this chapter. I decided to exclude the parts that were leaving me stuck. So, this chapter is shorter than originally planned, but I hope you still enjoy it. It's a bit angsty but it does have some important hints for future chapters XD 
> 
> Let's see if you can work out what's going to happen next.
> 
> Also, do you want a 'Glossary of Scents'? It will be a chapter dedicated to everyone's scents and what they indicate the person or Myst is feeling. It would be updated each time a new scent is mentioned- almost as if you are logging the scent into the glossary as you read. I will always indicate what the Myst or person is feeling each time a new scent is mentioned (unless it can't be mentioned for plot reasons...), however, after mentioning that scent in conjunction with the attributed emotion/s a few times, I may just mention the scent alone to express how a character is feeling (Basically, I really want to do a 'Glossary of Scents' because even I forget what each scent means xD)


	8. Chapter 5

_Don't be afraid to show, what we're going for_

Woojin woke in a cold sweat, panting heavily as he glanced around frantically for the beast that had been looming over him moments before. The reeking stench of lavender attacked his nostrils still and Woojin would have been convinced that the beast was messing with him if he hadn't realised he was in the bathroom and not the basement. His pounding heart began to slow to a steady, even beat as he began to relax.

As he dragged his gaze around the room and towards the body beside him, his eyes lingered around the shadows in the room as if the beast could be hiding in those tiny spots of darkness. Woojin's veins still trembled with the fear of the Boarus. Even in his dreams, the creature rendered him useless. If it hadn't been for Chan, he would be dead. The unsettling scent of lavender faded from his mind as Woojin's gaze settled on Chan. The faint scent of tar and almost heady scent of hibiscus flower filling his nostrils instead. Reaching out a trembling hand, Woojin touched the Myst's forehead. It was quite warm, but no where near as hot as it had been when he was in danger of dying.

Woojin suppressed a pained groan as he stood. His ankles, knees, hips, back, and even shoulders all cracked as he straightened himself. The simultaneous cracking of his bones left dull aches behind in their wake. His stomach also felt weird. He hoped he wasn't getting sick. With a wince, he bent down before scooping Chan into his arms. He carefully slipped an arm underneath the boy's knees and upper back, gently lifting him without jarring him.

Once he had Chan held comfortably against his chest, he walked slowly out of the bathroom and into the hallway. Stepping down the hallway, Woojin headed towards his bedroom. The room was the third closest room to the bathroom. It would be easier to monitor Chan from his room as it was closer to the dining room where Woojin spent most of his time. 

The door was wide open when he stepped through it, having been left ajar after he had flung it open three days ago in the ridiculous hope of confusing the Boarus while he continued racing towards the basement door. It had been a foolish move that had only slowed him down. Woojin shuddered at the memory of the uncomfortable sensation of the beast's warm, rotten lavender smelling breath almost caressing his neck, seeping through his clothes to tickle tauntingly down his back. His legs buckled as the overwhelming fear he felt while fleeing through his own house, the place he had been taught- the place he believed -was safe, from a horrifying beast that guaranteed death upon meeting it crashed through him once more. With shaky steps, Woojin reached his bed and gently lowered Chan onto it. The scent of lavender tingled at the edge of his mind. His sheets were still thrown back from when he hurriedly jumped out of bed the night after he was attacked by the Boarus, his body responding to the rush of adrenaline flooding his tensed muscles as the lingering memories of the giant rotting creature of deceit and death loped idly after him while calling out to him with his parents' voices haunted his dreams with a ruthless intensity. It had been the most terrifying part about the Boarus. The chase.

The creature was clearly enjoying itself while Woojin could do nothing but sprint away in terror. Yet, no matter how fast he ran, the beast was never more than a metre away. Woojin had been sure that it would have pounced on him before he was anywhere near his house, but the Boarus had simply walked through his door, splintering the doorway and crumbling adjoining walls effortlessly as it continued after him without so much as a stumble.

Desperation had clawed at Woojin's chest mercilessly, shredding his lungs to pieces, prohibiting him from breathing- or at least, that's how it had felt despite his haggard, panted inhales and exhales that tore through his throat. He had to get away. He had to keep running. He had to hide. He had to do something, something! In a last ditch effort to escape the beast, Woojin threw open his bedroom door before barreling down the hall to the basement door, nearly falling down those same steps that he had calmly walked up earlier that day. In his terror clogged mind, he forgot that there was even someone else in the basement, his petrified thoughts too consumed by fear and the desperation to find the silver bullets that would hopefully kill the Boarus. The Boarus was not one of the Mysts that any hunter learned about during their Awakening. It was a creature of nightmares told to children in stories by their parents to convince them to behave and keep close. It wasn't considered real. Not even by the parents. But perhaps that was because no one ever survived the Boarus. 

_"We survived," _Chan's gurgled, broken words echoed through Woojin's mind, snapping him out of his trance. Chan had murmured those words almost in disbelief before he had slipped into a coma state for four days. The scent of lavender retreated as his focus returned to Chan. His hands still rested against the wolf's shoulder and hip, his fingers scrunching the damp material of his clothing.

_Damp_. Woojin gasped and unclenched his fingers. Chan's clothes were still damp after Woojin had placed him in the ice bath for his fever. His fingers played with the hem of Chan's shirt. Should he change the Myst's clothes to dry ones? He began to lift the shirt, a sliver of pale skin exposing itself before he stopped, dropping the shirt down as if it had burned him. A strong carnal desire rampaged through Woojin suddenly and he reeled backwards. His breathing became shallow as he suddenly found himself hyper aware of the alluring scent of hibiscus flower and another unidentifiable but familiar sweet scent.

With a choked sound, Woojin stumbled out of the room, practically slamming the door closed in his hurry to escape the strange, unwelcome thoughts that began plaguing his mind without warning. There was a strange mix of primal desires that were goading Woojin into two very different scenarios. Two very different scenarios that made no sense to Woojin. The strange feeling in his stomach worsened and his insides twisted painfully as he inhaled, the scent of hibiscus flower clouding his mind with more images. Images of him and Chan. Moments that had never happened. Moments that didn't make sense and yet made perfect sense. Moments that a part of Woojin _wanted_ to happen.

Shaking his head vigorously, he attempted to clear it of the thoughts. However, the desires refused to be dislodged and only seemed to intensify. With an aggravated groan Woojin messed up his hair as his fingers ran backwards and forwards through the brunette strands roughly. Distress leaked out from Woojin as he paced frantically outside of his bedroom door, the spearmint scent wafting into the room and around him in the hallway.

Woojin paused his aggravated pacing and stared at the closed door, the room seemed to be enticing him to enter, begging and goading him to just open the door and walk in. He shook his head violently and stomped away from his bedroom, his angry footsteps carrying him to the bathroom. He inhaled slowly, vaguely noting the faint hint of burnt cinnamon in the air before disregarding the thought. He stepped into the room cautiously, narrowly avoiding the soaked tiles as he made his way to the towel rack and tugging the foot mat off of it harshly. The grey fabric fell to the floor eagerly, immediately absorbing the water. However, the small mat was not enough to mop up all of the water. With an annoyed sigh, Woojin dumped his larger body towel onto the mess as well- it was due for a wash anyway.

After drying the floor as best as he could, Woojin pulled the plug out of the bathtub and picked up the bag of half-melted ice cubes. A heavy sigh left Woojin's lips as his frustration and confusion drained away with the freezing cold water he poured into the bath. He held the top of the bag while spinning the bottom of it to close it before returning it to the freezer. He glanced at the sink and stared at the dirty dishes and swore.

Whirling around, Woojin walked down the hall to the guest bedroom where the two plates of pancakes remained untouched. A few flies were wandering freely over the food and Woojin's nose involuntarily scrunched in disgust. He carefully slipped his hands under the tray. His fingers stalled on the smooth texture of the tray as he glanced around the room.

The bed sheets were a mess, but otherwise the room looked untouched. It sent a shiver down Woojin's spine. It was almost eerie how cold and _empty _the room felt. With another shudder, Woojin walked swiftly out of the room, closing the door behind him without a second glance. He balanced the food tray easily as he ambled his way back to the kitchen.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Woojin dropped his pen onto the table with a frustrated sigh. His eyes unconsciously wandered to his closed bedroom door. Although he had put scent blockers beside the door on both sides, his mind easily remembered the alluring scents of hibiscus flower and the vaguely familiar sweet scent that was growing stronger as the days passed. The scents lingered in the air around him despite him having showered multiple times and soaked his clothes in scent neutralizers. He knew he couldn't actually smell the scents, that it was all in his head, but it still caused his insides to twist weirdly. The feeling in his gut had gotten stronger over the past three days, becoming almost unbearably painful whenever he composed himself enough to enter the room and check on Chan. 

It had taken him five hours to calm down the first day and go back into the room. He had struggled to ignore the scents once again and ended up racing out of the room the moment he had changed Chan's clothes and the bed sheets. The thoughts that had plagued him afterwards had left him unable to focus on even filling out his journal about Chan. The thoughts had even followed him into his dreams that night and unsurprisingly left him waking up ridiculously hard in the middle of the night. With no way to get the arousing images out of his head, he had resorted to having to deal with his problem and wearing a peg on his nose when he checked on Chan. However, the peg was useless. It didn't seem to stop the scents at all. 

Pushing his own journal to the side, he picked up his mother's journal and opened it up to the bookmarked page. His fingers traced his mother's handwriting reverently. He really missed her. He wished she was here right now to explain to him what was going on with Chan and tell him what to do to stop the intimate thoughts about- never mind. He never wanted anyone to know what he had been thinking about for the past two days. They were certainly not PG and not something to be shared. He sighed and switched his attention to what the writing actually said. He had been doing as much research as his restless mind would allow, trying to find out what could possibly be happening. So far, he had been unlucky in both getting much research done and in finding anything of use. 

He begins reading the page but discovers he wasn't paying attention at all when he catches his mind wandering to Chan once again. His eyes find themselves locked onto the white bedroom door for the hundredth time. Chan's temperature hadn't dropped any further since the cold bath and Woojin's brow furrowed in worry as he glanced at his journal. His messily scrawled notes about Chan's health showed a row filled with the exact same number, 76 degrees, despite the wolf's temperature having been taken every two to five hours. Woojin wasn't sure what to do. He kept changing the washer on Chan's head whenever he checked his temperature, but it didn't seem to be helping at all. Surely that wasn't normal? 

He found himself focusing on his mother's journal as the question burned in the front of his mind. His muscles tense as he begins to comprehend what he is reading and his heart's rhythmic beating speeds up. 

_I was talking with the village elder of one of the deer-folk settlements and she told me so many things I did not know. I don't even dare write some of those things down, lest they be discovered by anyone...however unlikely it would be, it's a risk I refuse to take. Everything she said will stick with me for the rest of my life. I will take these secrets to my grave. I won't let anyone know. I can't let anyone know. _

Woojin frowned at his mother's strange words. She almost sounded scared. He had rarely seen his mother scared, but he distinctly remembered the day that he had seen his mother pale and trembling with fear, he vividly remembered the tremor in her voice that gave away just how terrified she was as she tried to speak to him soothingly and promise that everything would be alright. He remembered it as clearly as if it had happened yesterday and not fifteen years ago. And yet, he cannot clearly remember what happened next, just flashes of purple, of a strange face that stared at him and his parents solemnly before disappearing, his mother crying and his father looking so lost and regretful. Just random pieces that didn't seem to fit into the puzzle properly. This seemed like a different kind of scared, her handwriting was a bit messier than usual and looked rushed, as if she was in a hurry to get all of her thoughts down before she was discovered. Just what were the things that this deer-folk elder had told his mother? 

_I learned many things while we rested in their humble village. Father and Mother were too busy with the other hunters to notice me much. They had received some information that suggested that our mission would be more dangerous than they had anticipated. Mother and Father no longer want me to come with them. They were preparing to leave with the other hunters while I was to remain with the deer-folk. I didn't mind at first. I like deer-folk. I like how calm and kind they are. I like how they are so friendly and offer refuge to anyone who needs it. I like how their lands have unanimously been agreed upon to be safe zones for everyone. Even the demon-fae hybrids don't dare to meddle with the unspoken law. _

_I was nervous when I saw two of them enter the village, but they greeted the deer-folk respectfully and the deer-folk welcomed them warmly. The elder, Elskier Grandeur, told me that they were the only two of their kind who regularly stopped by. They were scouts for their clan and often wound up in some form of trouble as they had a bad habit of biting off more than they could chew. She told me to be wary but that friendliness would go a long way despite what I had been told. "_Not all monsters are monsters, _MiMi"she told me. She often called me by a nickname in the deer-folk tongue. She told me that it meant "child of wishes". _

Woojin found himself entranced by his mother's words. Even the demon-fae respected the deer-folk? It made no sense to Woojin. The demon-fae were disgusting hybrids with no consciences or respect for anyone. They were indiscriminate murderers who killed simply because they could. They were torturers without mercy or pity and did it for sport, often challenging each other to see who could keep their captive alive the longest while inflicting the worst agony onto their undeserving victim. His confusion disappeared as he read the next paragraph. Elskier's words rang clearly in his mind; not all monsters are monsters. 

_Two nights later, I found myself behind the demon-fae as the deer-folk village erupted into flames. What had started as a night of celebration ended in screaming and death. I had been talking with the demon-fae despite their limited knowledge of English and found out their names. They laughed at my attempts to say their demonic names before giving me an English name to call them by. Callan and Alessia. Alessia was usually in charge of looking after the demon-fae infants that were abandoned by their parents and Callan was Alessia's lover and often took scouting jobs so he could explore the world. He's been restless since his last battle and doesn't like the boring domesticity of staying with the clan. They both seemed so human with their glamours and their words. I forgot that they were monsters in that moment. They were just living beings who were rejected by both of their parents and marked as abominations by the entire world. I felt sympathy for them. I still do. Even if they sided with their kind in the end, they still saved me. They saved me and the other children when they could have just let us burn. _

_Alessia helped us escape while Callan kept the attackers distracted by helping them destroy the village. As we ran, I am glad I looked back. I got to see Callan burning some of his kind. He burned them with the village. A silent act of revenge for destroying everything. But I regret stopping to continue watching as Elskier just stood in the flames and allowed them to consume her as her people died. Demon-fae around her jeered and laughed, cackling evilly as she burned to death, growing increasingly agitated as she did not give them the satisfaction of screaming. _

_Alessia had dragged me away and it wasn't until many days later that I remembered what she had said. Elskier was a strong woman whom she would honour and respect for the rest of her life. She teleported us to somewhere. She said it was safe and that this was all she could do for us and that she hoped we never crossed paths again. _

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

_That was the last time I saw Alessia and Callan and even a year later, I can't work out if it makes me happy or sad. They weren't bad and yet they were... If there was a question I could ask Elskier now, It would be this_

_Is being bad to survive forgivable? _

Woojin stared at the question silently. _Is being bad to survive forgivable?_ He didn't know. It was a heavy question. A question with too many possible answers. 

He continued to read his mother's journal, flicking through page after page, learning more and more about his mother's past. He smiled as he read his mother's entries about meeting his father and how sweet he was to her. He cried as he read about her human friend losing her battle to cancer. He fumed as he read her furious words about his father cheating on her with someone else. He grinned as he read her abashed words about discovering that his father was enlisting the help of his friends to throw her a surprise birthday party, not cheating on her. 

Woojin lost a sense of reality and time as he read through his mother's memories. However, just as his eyelids grew heavy and his mind fogged over with the thoughts of sleep he flipped the page sat up straight. Old blood stains smeared these pages and obscured some of the words. With his mind shocked into high gear, he swiftly begins to read the pages. 

He can feel the colour draining from his skin as he inhales shakily and glances up at the closed white door that hid the inside of his room from view. A new concern reared it's ugly head as words clanged around loudly in his head. 

_I don't know how I convince Jongho to help me try to save the injured wolf. I'm just glad he tried to help despite his hate for their kind. The wolf had been attacked by demon-fae and been left alive to slowly die in agony. The stench of blood and wolfbane was so thick I don't know how I was even able to breathe in oxygen, it just didn't seem possible. Jongho helped me carry the wolf to a nearby pack. The pack didn't know him and was wary of us but they barely hesitated to take him into their infirmary. _

_We both learned something new that day. The wolf pack offered us aid should we ever need it for helping the wolf they discovered to be the heir of an ally pack they hadn't been able to get in contact with for several months. We both learned that maybe these creatures that we hunt aren't all as bad as we are taught. _

_We also learned that **injured wolves** **must** **never, under any circumstance, shift into their other form. If a wolf is injured in its wolf form, shifting back into their human form before the wounds have healed can worsen their injuries as the anatomy is completely different. The shifting process, especially from wolf to human is particularly dangerous as what looks like a small wound on the wolf is life-threatening on a human. The shifting process can also cause more damage as the bone structures are changing and the skin realigning. **_

_The wolf died an hour later. The shift into his human form while we were taking him to the pack had made his wounds worse and caused the wolfsbane to spread through his bloodstream quicker. No one seemed surprised except us. When we left, they told us that if a wolf changes into its more vulnerable human form after being injured, it's usually a sign that they have resigned themselves to dying. _

Woojin stared at the words, rereading them again and again. He stood from his chair with a shaky breath. The moment the Boarus had died, Chan had collapsed and shifted into his human form. Woojin had thought nothing of it, not knowing the dangers of that shift, not realising the significance behind Chan's shift. Was this why his temperature wasn't going down to the normal 56 degrees? Was that why he had spent so long unconscious? Was that why he refused to eat? Did Chan want to give in to death? 

Anger flooded Woojin suddenly and violently and he kicked one of the chairs as hard as he could with a frustrated shout. The chair scraped across the ground for a second before becoming airborne and splintering against the wall, leaving a dent in it. He grit his teeth and glared at the closed bedroom door. Who was Chan to just decide to die? How was it fair for Chan to not bother fighting? Why does everyone always want to leave Woojin? 

The rage left Woojin just as suddenly as it came, except it stole any remnants of his energy with it. He collapsed heavily onto his chair and stared blankly out the hole where his front door used to be. He couldn't comprehend where that anger or those thoughts came from. Nor could he comprehend why he suddenly cared so much about Chan's well-being when he had been torturing him for five days straight without even blinking. What had changed? Was it some kind of weird psychological issue that arose from Chan saving him from the Boarus? Should he see a psychologist? He laughed humorlessly, the sound empty and rough. Who was he kidding? What kind of psychologist could he talk to about his hunter life? He'd end up in a psych ward for sure. And then no one would be around to care for Chan. 

His heart twinged painfully at that thought and he sighed defeatedly. He really needed to get more sleep. The lack of sleep really was beginning to mess with his head. He crossed his arms on the table and lay his head on it tiredly. Exhaustion practically bounded up to him and knocked him over in its excitement to greet him. The emotion exertion left him feeling numb and emptied his mind of any thoughts. Unable to fight off the sleep that tugged at his consciousness, Woojin slipped into the freezing clutches of sleep that beckoned him enticingly into its web of nightmares.

_\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Early morning rays of sunlight streamed into the house through the broken doorway and onto Woojin's hunched form. His pen moved swiftly over the paper of his journal while his eyes trailed over his words. Woojin had awoken from a string of horrifying nightmares about the Boarus and Chan dying a few minutes ago. He wanted to rush to check on Chan but stopped himself long enough to write down the weird symbol that had appeared in his nightmares and when it showed up in each nightmare before he couldn't remember them. As it was, the nightmares were already slipping away from him, only leaving behind the residual terror and sorrow they induced. 

He placed his pen on the table and looked over what he had written, hoping he hadn't missed anything. He nodded to himself, it all looked about right. He would consult some hunter books later to see if he could find anything about the strange symbol. It was the only thing that didn't seem to be leaving his mind in relation to the nightmares. He brushed off the oddness of it and cautiously made his way to the bathroom to shower. He was putting off checking on Chan because a small, scared part of himself was terrified of the finality of it if he did check. 

The warm water washed over his skin soothingly, helping relax his sore and tense muscles from the awkward positions it had been in for long periods of time. Focusing on the sound of the water, Woojin refused to allow his thoughts to wander. Too often he had found himself thinking about all the intimate scenes that overwhelmed him whenever he went near Chan recently, and that vaguely familiar, enticingly sweet scent that was growing stronger and stronger everyday. 

Woojin sighed in exasperation. In his attempt to not think about anything, he had ended up thinking about the things he had least wanted to think about. Trying to drown out the thoughts, he focused on consciously thinking about the motions of brushing his teeth. 

Once done, he left the bathroom and retrieved some clothes from his indoor clothes hanger. Choosing a simple T-shirt and shorts, he got dressed and decided he had stalled for long enough. Chan needed to be checked on. Whether he was dead or alive, he couldn't just be ignored. 

Woojin warily walks towards his bedroom. The twisting of his insides has been growing gradually worse and worse the more times he checks on Chan, but he has no idea what it means or how to make it go away. But it's becoming impossible to ignore. He inhales shakily as he opens the door handle, preparing himself for the overwhelmingly alluring scents. 

He is unprepared, however, when he opens the door and everything hits him full force. A sickly sweet grapefruit scent washes over him, filling him with a strange anxiety that he doesn't understand. The familiar sweet scent that he couldn't name lingered on the tip of his tongue, meek in the presence of the strong grapefruit scent. 

Woojin's eyes meet Chan's eyes. The relief at seeing Chan awake is swept away in a tide of anxiety as the grapefruit scent intensifies suddenly. Something was wrong. The moment their eyes met, Woojin knew something was wrong. 

"How long have I been here?" Chan asked with a trembling voice. Woojin hesitated as he quickly tried to focus long enough to work out how long Chan had been here, his mind struggling to focus as the familiar sweet scent began to grow stronger. 

"Uhh...Nearly two weeks, I think," Woojin responded uncertainly. Chan fell back against the pillows with a frustrated groan. 

"Fuck!" Woojin jumped, startled by the loud curse. He began to walk closer to the bed, concerned about what had Chan so obviously distressed. 

"What? What's wro-" 

"Stop! Don't walk any closer! You need to leave. You need to leave this room and lock that door," Chan interrupted him, his expression anxious and terrified.. His eyes were glossy with an emotion Woojin couldn't understand and his voice carried a wildness to it that Woojin didn't know how to interpret. 

"Get out!" Chan growled, sitting up suddenly, expression dark. Woojin flinched but didn't leave the room. The vague enticing scent was even stronger now, stronger than before. He could almost tell what it was. He was so close to working out what the scent was. 

_Chocolate! _

Woojin took and involuntary step forward as the word flashed through his mind. Chocolate. Chan smelled of chocolate. Woojin liked that. The stronger the scent got, the more intimate moments between him and Chan that had not happened circulated through his head. 

He held eye contact with Chan and the world seemed to slow down and speed up all at once. The world seemed to boil down to a single point, that point being Chan. _Chan_. The answer was Chan. The answer to a question he didn't even know he had was Chan. The symbol shone brightly in his mind, glowing brighter and brighter the closer he stepped to Chan. The twisting in his gut both grew unbearable and disappeared. His life made no sense and yet made perfect sense. 

"Get out," Chan weakly whispered, his gaze unwavering as he stared straight back into Woojin's eyes. Woojin shook his head slightly. No. He wouldn't leave. He felt as if he was in a dream or possessed. His movements didn't feel like his own. His thoughts didn't seem like his own. His life didn't feel real anymore. He paused when Chan inhaled sharply, his chest inflating quickly as he sucked in a quick breath. Chan's eyes dropped down slightly before glancing back up. It was Woojin's turn to inhale sharply. Chan's eyes were dilated and the scent of chocolate had grown so strong it could be considered suffocating- but not to Woojin. Woojin was intoxicated- drunk on the rich chocolate scent. 

Before he could step forward, Chan launched himself at Woojin. Woojin caught Chan with surprising ease, as if he had been prepared for the sudden attack. The carnal desires from the other day rushed back into Woojin as he felt Chan's hands gripping his hips tightly while he kissed him passionately. 

Lips dragged delicately over his skin and down his neck, pausing here and there to offer light pecks. The light pecks turned into rough sucking as Chan explored Woojin's collarbones and moved back up his neck and returned to his lips. Chan grinded against Woojin without warning and Woojin gasped in surprise. He continued to grind against Woojin, his grip on Woojin's hips unfaltering and unforgiving. 

Intoxicated by the strong smell of chocolate now mixing with the sweet scent of vanilla, Woojin met Chan's desperation with his own. He pushed Chan onto the bed and climbed on top of him. 


	9. Chapter 6.1

Vague recollections of faint vanilla and citrus swirled in his memories, mixing into an unsettling blend of anxious desire. Chan sat up swiftly, eyes wide in confusion and horror. He bit down on his lip to muffle a whimper as pain ricocheted through his body at the swift motion. A familiar heat warmed his stomach and twisted his insides uncomfortably. His arms wrapped around his abdomen and he squeezed his eyes shut as a particularly painful cramp punished him for moving. 

He inhaled and exhaled slowly, focusing on his breathing to take his attention away from the pain in his bones and stomach. He hadn't moved around or shifted in a while and his bones ached from the lack of movement. Chan blinked and glanced around the room blearily. His brows furrowed in confusion, where was he? He allowed his eyes to wander over the furniture in the room slowly, trying to see if any of it would jog his memory, but none of it did. He frowned. He had no memory of this room, nor of anything since he fell asleep in that other room after Woojin got mad. _Woojin_. 

Something clicked in his brain and he lifted his head higher. He sniffed the room, trying to discern any scent that he would recognise as Woojin's. He noticed faint citrus and hints of orange mint to be the oldest scents, spearmint seemed to be the strongest scent but vanilla, although faint was the newest in the room, accompanied by peppermint. It was undoubtedly Woojin. His frowned deepened as he thought about the scents and the meaning they held. He recognised spearmint and citrus from their experience with the Boarus, they seemed to mean he was scared and sad. He noted that the room was strangely devoid of anger. He could not smell even a hint of burned cinnamon. The room just held fear and sorrow. 

The peppermint and orange mint starkly contrasted the strength of those scents with their meekness. They weakly permeated the air, lingering on the furniture and sheets as if uncertain if they belonged. Peppermint was stronger than the calming orange mint scent. Chan attributed it to it being a nervous scent, thus being stronger than the neutral orange mint scent. Chan found Woojin's scents pleasant to his nose and wished he could make a candle that held Woojin's happiest scents so he could burn the candle whenever he wanted to smell those scents. Some would say to just buy essential oils with those scents, but few understand that an individual's scents resemble something familiar, but they also have their own subtle scent that changes the familiar scent almost imperceptibly. But that subtlety made all the difference to Chan. Having an extremely sensitive sense of smell was both a blessing and a curse. Very few had more than just a keen sense of smell and so very few understood Chan's troubles. 

He unconsciously found himself focusing on the vanilla scent. It was new and Chan couldn't place what meaning the scent held. It frustrated him that is eluded him. Usually he could easily discern emotion from scent, but the faint vanilla wasn't giving anything away. He growled in annoyance as another scent began to overpower the vanilla. The sound got stuck in his throat when he recognised the rich chocolate scent. His heart skipped a beat before beating wildly against his rib cage. He sat up straighter as alarm bells went off in his head. He was going into rut. And he was going into rut fast. 

Another realisation had him groaning a his body seemed to set alight the moment he knew he was going into rut. He had been taking suppressants for almost a year now. This was going to be a strong and painful rut. He would have very little, if any, control. He didn't know how long he had been Woojin's captive, but he knew he hadn't taken his suppressants daily like he needed to. 

Anxiety clawed at his chest as he felt his dick twitch. It was really happening. He was going into rut in a hunter's bedroom. Flashes of images crowded his mind and he coughed in surprise at the vividness of them. He knew his rut made him horny, but he didn't know it could make him horny enough to think about fucking a hunter. 

_Woojin isn't just a hunter. Woojin is so much more. _His wolf whispered things to him that he couldn't comprehend. How could Woojin be more than just a hunter? Did his wolf believe this because Woojin had shown kindness and taken care of him after he saved Woojin from the Boarus? Was that kindness what made his wolf deem that Woojin was so much more than a hunter? 

Chan's anxiety spiked as his ears picked up the sound of soft footsteps approaching the door. He sniffed but couldn't smell anything beyond the room, he blamed it on his overpowering rut scent. He always hated how strong it was. It almost made him loathe chocolate. Almost. 

Chan watched as the door opened and Woojin stepped in. They locked eyes almost immediately and Chan felt his inside twist painfully. His dick was semi-hard and the images of him inside Woojin rushed to the forefront of his mind. It took everything within him to stop himself from throwing himself at Woojin and making those imagined moments real. He inhaled shallowly, trying to compose himself before asking the question that had been on his mind since he realised he was going into rut.

"How long have I been here?" he asked with a trembling voice. He watched as Woojin hesitated, his brow furrowed in concentration as he seemed to struggle with something. Chan briefly wondered what Woojin was struggling with before forgetting about it when Woojin answered. 

"Uhh...Nearly two weeks, I think," Woojin responded, uncertainty tainting his words with peppermint. Chan fell back against the pillows with a frustrated groan. He was doomed. He hadn't taken suppressants for two weeks and now he was going into rut in an unfamiliar environment without any of his toys, food or drinks. 

"Fuck!" He yelled in sheer frustration. He felt bad when Woojin jumped. That slight guilt evaporated the moment Woojin began walking closer to the bed. His clear concern be damned. Chan inhaled sharply and immediately regretted it. The vanilla scent was stronger now. It overpowered the calm orange mint and uncertain peppermint. It also turned him on. His mind quickly became submerged in the horny desires of his rut and he felt control slipping. 

"What? What's wro-"

"Stop! Don't walk any closer! You need to leave. You need to leave this room and lock that door," Chan shouted. He fought to keep control and not lose himself to his rut, but Woojin's scent and voice were not helping at all. He stared at Woojin as he struggled to ignore the impulse to leap forward and drag Woojin onto the bed and do all the things his imagination had shown him. He felt his control slip swiftly as a new idea popped into his mind. The idea was a hickeyed up Woojin riding him while Chan guided him at a swift pace. Chan almost moaned at the thought of Woojin bouncing on his dick. Woojin had a beautiful body. Who was Chan not give it the worshiping it deserved? 

Chan snapped himself out of his trance quickly and tried to get Woojin to leave before he completely lost control. 

"Get out!" he growled, sitting up suddenly, expression dark. He ignored the fact that Woojin flinched at his tone and sudden movement and only grew more frustrated when the hunter didn't leave the room. He was about to yell at Woojin to leave again when the hunter stepped forward again. Everything inside Chan went into full panic mode. He both wanted to pounce on Woojin and run as far away from him as he could. Didn't Woojin realise what was happening and what was going to happen if he didn't hurry up and leave? The vanilla scent only seemed to grow stronger and stronger the longer he was near Chan and Chan was going to go insane from want if Woojin didn't leave right now. 

He found himself lost in Woojin's stare and something shifted inside of him, not on a physical level, but a spiritual one. The world simultaneously slowed and sped up in a dizzying excitement. Vanilla and chocolate combined seamlessly in room and Chan could feel all of the missing puzzle pieces hadn't been able to find before click into place. His eyes widened as he began to catch on to what was happening. _No_. This couldn't be happening. 

"Get out," Chan weakly whispered, his voice hoarse and shaky. He couldn't break his gaze away from Woojin's shining brown eyes, he looked so unbelievably happy and content and Chan couldn't find a reason why. Why would Woojin be happy in a circumstance like this? 

Woojin shook his head slightly. Something snapped inside of Chan. His alpha snapped. The defiance in the face of something so unpredictable was exactly what his alpha wanted. But it wasn't just the defiance, it was the meaning behind the defiance. If Woojin stayed, he was accepting Chan as he was. Chan inhaled sharply as he allowed himself to accept reality. If his alpha had accepted it, then why shouldn't he? 

His mate was a hunter. He was a hunter's mate.


	10. A/N: THANKS TO WJ, I'LL BE DELETING THIS. BUT PLEASE READ. IMPORTANT INFO

** *!THIS STORY WILL ONLY BE UP FOR ANOTHER 24ISH HOURS (MAYBE A LITTLE LESS) TO GIVE READERS ADEQUATE TIME TO BE AWARE OF WHAT IS HAPPENING!* **

Hi, 

You likely already know of the situation regarding Kim Woojin and the accusations he is facing. 

Due to evidence suggesting that he is guilty and me not wanting someone like him in my stories, I will be deleting this story. 

**WAIT A MOMENT! **Before you click away! I may **re-upload** this in the future with some edit so this person is no longer included in this story. Please, if you are interested in the continuation of this after Woojin is removed and the plot altered to accommodate those changes, then dm me (on wattpad: Strayis, twitter: the_strayis, or instagram: the_strayis) or leave a comment expressing your interest. 

This would be so that I can contact you when the story has been re-uploaded. Even if you just leave a comment with a **yellow heart emoji **💛, I'll know to let you know when this story is re-uploaded. I will also inform you if I have decided not to re-upload this same way, but only if you have let me know that you wish to be informed. 

And yes, I may choose not to re-upload, if that is the case, then I may gift the plot to another if they wish to continue the story themselves. Or I may just return it to my drafts until I feel inspired to work with the plot again. I may even change the group associated with the plot. If this occurs, I will let you know. But remember to leave a yellow heart emoji either in the comments or in my dms if you want to be kept in the loop.

P.S. dming me might help because I don't know how to specifically notify people here on ao3. I mean, I assume tagging in a chapter would work, right?


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